Physician's Progress Notes
by ladygris
Summary: A series of one-shots focusing on Dr. Carson Beckett. All genres. Ch 8: Addiction. Carson struggles to handle stress and turns to the wrong thing. Tag to "Perchance to Dream," a Big Finish audio drama starring Paul McGillion.
1. Inferno's End

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing related to Stargate: Atlantis or it's characters. I'm simply playing in their sandbox.

**Spoilers:** As this collection is a series of one-shots from various different episodes, I'm issuing one spoiler alert. I have no idea in advance what episodes will inspire which story, so beware that **any** episode could suddenly be mentioned.

**Author's Note:** So, recently, I got into writing one-shots (and some much longer stuff) for Dr. Carson Beckett. Then, the idea took on a life of its own and mutated into a wonderful new challenge thread on Gateworld, the Carson Beckett Thunk/Whump Art/Fanfic Challenges. Since there's a new challenge almost every week, I figured the best thing to do would be to create a collection of one-shots for Dr. Beckett. I will not be moving any of my Beckett-centric one-shots from "Snippets and Snapshots" over here. It'll just create confusion for me. The title comes from a doctor's practice of keeping progress notes. Please keep in mind as you read these that I am _not_ a doctor, nor do I have any medical training. I research to the best of my ability, but some things slip through the cracks. So, without further ado, I give you the first "Physician's Progress Note." Enjoy! ~lg

oOo

Carson Beckett walked into the infirmary, the soles of his shoes silent against the tile floors. He really should have been sleeping after the craziness of the last few days, but he couldn't rest. Instead, he'd dressed and returned to make one final check on his latest patient.

When he'd been called to Taranis, he'd anticipated helping people with a wide range of injuries from panic and the impending volcanic eruption. He had _not_ thought he'd be delivering a baby. But, as the conditions outside grew worse, the people became restless. A group of them set out for "the river," mindless of Carson's repeated warnings that it was deadly outside. Of that group was a young man, no more than twenty, who left his very pregnant wife in Carson's care. He kissed her goodbye and told her that he'd see her soon, that she would return to Taranis as soon as the ash had cleared. But he wanted her with the Lanteans as she was so close to delivering their child. As she'd arrived late, she wasn't among the first group to be transported to the _Daedalus_. That left her running through the tunnels toward the Ancient warship that Sheppard named the _Orion_.

Pushing the memories from his mind, Carson waved to Amanda Cole and peeked around the corner. Aithley, as the girl's name was, slept soundly, a result of the medications that Carson had prescribed. Her son lay in a cradle provided by Teyla's people. The rich wood of the cradle contrasted against the child's pale features, but the newborn seemed content enough. The cradle would go with the mother when she was stable enough to move, and Carson made a mental note to thank Teyla profusely. The Athosian had arranged for some brightly-colored baby blankets, the cradle that would fit a child as old as one year, diapers, bottles, and milk. With Earth so far away, finding a supermarket that sold baby formula was out of the question, and Aithley had not been coherent enough to nurse the child.

Just as he turned to go, the baby stirred. Carson froze, waiting for the lad to settle back into sleep. He didn't, however, and let out a cry that indicated he'd wake the entire infirmary if necessary. Rather than waking his mother, who desperately needed the sleep, Carson moved to the cradle. He gently slid his hands under the boy's head and lifted him, immediately smelling the problem. He silently carried the baby to the small changing table he'd set up and reached for the diapers. In Pegasus, most parents used cloth diapers, and the Athosians were no exception. Teyla had shown Carson how to fold and diaper the baby using the pins, and he'd picked it up quickly. In truth, diapering the baby didn't bother him. He was concerned for Aithley. The volcanic eruption on Taranis had killed her husband, and the girl suffered from grief as well as the recent birth of her son. And _that_ had been traumatic enough.

With the baby freshly diapered and wide awake, Carson slung a small cloth over his shoulder and carried the child into the main portion of the infirmary. The small fridge in his office held the milk and bottles, and he managed to get everything out. However, with the baby needing more than one arm, he looked over the supplies and tried to figure out just how he would get this child fed. And, based on the way the baby was rooting into his shoulder, he needed to do so quickly.

A hand on his arm startled him, and Amanda grinned. "Let me." She expertly fixed a bottle and offered it to him. "Years of babysitting my cousins. You get used to it."

"Aye, I'm sure you do." Carson accepted the warmed bottle. "Thank you, love."

"You're welcome." She left the office, and Carson settled into his desk chair. It wasn't a rocker, but the side-to-side motion was the same. As the baby sucked hungrily at the milk, he grinned. As the youngest of seven, he'd never had this opportunity growing up. But he enjoyed it now. With the baby satisfying his hunger, he allowed his mind to travel over recent days.

oOo

_Aithley rushed past Carson and onto the _Orion_. She looked peaked, and one hand kept rubbing her unborn child. He wanted to check her, but she had the midwife from her village with her. He would be informed if anything was wrong. As it was, Colonel Sheppard still hadn't made it back to the ship, and Ronon and Teyla were cut off from the tunnels by lava flow. Carson had no way of knowing if they were even still alive._

_With all the villagers he'd brought secured in various crew quarters of the ship, he rushed to the bridge. He'd already located the infirmary and had pointed Aithley and the injured Taranians in that direction. At least they'd be among medical equipment he somewhat recognized. On the bridge, he found Rodney and Norina working to get the _Orion_ out of the hangar bay. Rodney announced that they were almost ready, and, just as Carson was ready to grieve for the loss of Sheppard, Ronon, and Teyla, Sheppard appeared in the doorway. They'd forced Rodney to explain his plan and had nervously settled into seats in on the bridge. Carson screwed his eyes shut and gripped the arms of his chair. Being in the middle of an erupting volcano just wasn't his idea of fun!_

_Then, after a few tense moments, it was over. The ship shook violently and then. . . .nothing. Carson opened his eyes and blinked at the starfield outside the view port. "It worked!"_

_Norina turned to Rodney. "You really are a genius." When she didn't get a response, she frowned. "Rodney?"_

_McKay still clung to the console in front of him. "I'm good," he said weakly._

_Carson would have checked the physicist's blood pressure, but one of the Taranians rushed onto the bridge. "Dr. Beckett!"_

"_Aye?"_

"_It's Aithley! The baby's coming!"_

_At that moment, with the _Orion_ safely in space, Carson's mind turned from survival to saving lives. He followed the Taranian to the infirmary, where Aithley lay on one of the beds while the midwife bathed her face in cold water. "Aithley, love, what's going on?"_

"_Hurts. . . ." She ground her teeth together, and Carson gently put a hand on her belly. It was tight, and he waited while she gasped her way through the contraction._

"_How long?"_

"_A while now." She stared up at him with tears in her brown eyes. "Swithon didn't make it, did he?" she asked, referring to her husband._

_Carson shook his head, sorry that a girl so young had to go through such a heartbreaking ordeal. She couldn't be over eighteen years old, and he knew she'd struggled with contractions through the whole evacuation. As her eyes closed in yet another contraction, Carson touched her hand. "Breathe, love. Slow and even." As she tried to comply, he smiled. "That's it. Keep breathing."_

_The contraction passed, and he scrambled for his medical kit. He didn't have everything he needed to deliver a baby here! He wasn't even an OB! He had Amanda, with her background in OB, for that! Nevertheless, it looked like he'd have to deliver this child._

_His hand-held scanner told him that the contractions were about three minutes apart and steady. Which was good. She had a ways to go depending on how far she'd progressed, and she might hold out for transport to the _Daedalus_ with their working hyperdrive. Putting aside his reservations, he quickly shed his TAC vest and jacket and found a place to wash his hands._

_The labor went quickly, much to Carson's surprise. He checked Aithley, encouraged her to keep breathing, and gave the Taranian midwife a lesson in helping the mother breathe. The other woman, shaken by the destruction of her planet, hadn't been thinking too clearly and seemed perfectly happy to turn Aithley's care over to Carson. Cursing his lack of foresight in preparing his medical kit, Carson made the mother as comfortable as possible. The _Daedalus_ beamed over some medications and scrubs for him, and he silently thanked Colonel Caldwell for the intervention._

_But something went wrong. Aithley had toughed it out for another hour when she felt the urge to push. Carson checked her again and then did a quick scan of the baby. The contractions were strong, and she was ready to deliver. But the baby's heart rate dropped with every contraction. The midwife looked to Carson for permission to allow Aithley to push, and he nodded. While he monitored fetal heart rate, the young mother bore down. She didn't scream, as some mothers did, but ground her teeth together so hard that Carson's teeth ached._

_His hand-held scanner beeped at him. "Stop!" As the midwife settled Aithley onto the bed between contractions, Carson met her eyes._

_The older woman moved to his side. "Something's wrong?"_

"_Aye." Carson turned so that Aithley couldn't read his lips and whispered, "Every time she pushes, the babe's heart rate drops dangerously low. I can't tell if it's an anomaly, but it could mean a Cesarian."_

_The midwife blinked. "A what?"_

"_Basically, surgery to remove the child." Carson touched her shoulder when her eyes widened. "It's perfectly safe. Women on my world have had Cesarians for many years."_

"_You can do that?"_

"_Aye." Carson smiled, putting on his best doctor's face. "But I'm concerned more about Aithley."_

"_Leave her to me." The midwife moved back to the mother's side, where she wanted to push again. Carson allowed it one more time, seeing the dip in the fetal heart rate and making a firm decision. Giving the midwife a meaningful glance, he grabbed the kit Caldwell had sent and climbed into the scrubs. He didn't have a lot of time, but he wanted to ensure the health of both mother and child. Clearing the infirmary, he nodded to the midwife, who turned Aithley onto her back. Carson administered a sedative and made the first incision._

_The baby was delivered with little difficulty. Once the medication kicked in, Aithley relaxed into the bed. She had a long recovery ahead of her, but she'd just become a mother. Carson instructed the midwife as he worked, having her help him hold the baby. The wonder of what he'd just done set in, and he smiled as he finished all the necessary steps to performing a Cesarian. A child had been born, healthy and with a good set of lungs. The wee lad bellowed as the midwife washed him and wrapped him in a cloak she'd found in Aithley's things. Carson worried slightly about feeding him, but the medications Aithley had been given hadn't fully sedated her. He completed his work and smiled as the midwife handed the boy to his mother. Knowing that clean-up could happen in just a few moments, Carson carried the worst of it from the area and spent the next little bit shedding soiled scrubs and letting out a deep breath._

_He'd just delivered a baby. And that—along with surviving the volcano—completed his day._

oOo

The boy sighed in Carson's arms, bringing him out of his memories. The baby had drained the bottle and now slept peacefully. Carson smiled, setting the bottle on his desk and wiping a drop of milk from the corner of the child's mouth. He'd kept a close eye on Aithley for the entire trip back to Atlantis, and he'd grown more and more concerned. Her grief for her husband had combined with her pain, and she slept most of the time. While the majority of the Taranians had been relocated, Carson insisted on keeping Aithley and her son close for observation. The midwife remained behind, in awe of Carson's medical skills and talking about wanting to study on Atlantis. Carson wasn't opposed to that, but he knew the woman needed to rejoin her people.

Now, however, he rose and carried the baby back to his mother. Aithley was stirring, no doubt sensing her son had slept for too long. She moved carefully in the bed, showing the first signs of interest in her surroundings in the three days since she'd delivered the boy. Carson hadn't even asked about a name for the baby, calling him "the wee babe" or "the wee lad." Now, however, he carried the lad to his mother, who smiled at him.

"Thank you," she whispered thickly.

"You're welcome." Carson carefully transferred the baby into her arms, mindful of her incision, and touched her shoulder. He would have withdrawn, but she grabbed his hand.

Aithley blinked up at him, her emotions so close to the surface that he could clearly read them. "We have a tradition among my people. The parents name one person or a couple who are willing, should anything happen, to help care for their child. It is usually accompanied by giving the child the same name as the person." She smiled. "Would you be willing, Dr. Beckett?"

Carson blinked at the sudden rush of tears. She wanted him to fill that role? His smile blossomed. "Aye, love, I'd be willin'."

"Good." Aithley let go of his hand to adjust the baby's blanket. "Because I cannot think of a better person." She smiled at the baby. "Dr. Beckett, meet Carson Swithon."

"Shouldn't you turn that around, love?" Carson asked. "Let his father's name be first?"

Aithley smiled sadly. "No." She blinked. "I loved my husband, but he never wanted his son to bear his name. He never liked it." She cried a few more tears, and Carson touched her shoulder.

"I'm sorry I asked."

"Don't be." She drew in a ragged breath. "I should have insisted he come with me."

Knowing that this grief would take years for Aithley to resolve, Carson didn't say a word. He stared at the baby, happy that he'd made an impact. Young Carson Swithon would eventually grow into a good strong man. Carson Beckett had no doubt the boy would care for his mother, and he knew that Aithley would love her son unconditionally.

She turned to him. "Thank you, Carson. For everything."

Unable to speak without tearing up, Carson simply nodded and left the mother and child alone. He'd had people depend on him. He knew what it was like to have the weight of the entire base resting on his shoulders as he tried to keep them patched up and healthy. But this. . . .Having the trust of a mother placed squarely into his hands was a momentous experience.

Happy he'd come to the infirmary tonight, Carson Beckett walked silently back to his room. He wrote a letter to his mother with details of the request and the lad's name but lacking anything that would violate his confidentiality agreement with the SGC. Then, he lay down for the night and stared out his window at the moon.

Life in Pegasus was hard. One faced Wraith, nanoviruses, time dilation fields, volcanoes, and any number of threats. But, if he looked close enough, there was always a bit of happiness to be found.


	2. Slippery Slope

**Author's Note:** Tag for "Poisoning the Well." Also, I used an excerpt from a Robert Frost poem here. You'll know it when you see it. Enjoy! ~lg

oOo

Carson Beckett stormed into his quarters and smacked the control crystals next the door, locking himself inside. He ripped off his uniform jacket, balled it up, and threw it across the room. A framed snapshot of his mother fell over, but he couldn't bring himself to feel bad about it at the moment. He was too angry, too hurt, and too tired.

Feeling the tension in the back of his neck creep into his head, Carson let out a deep breath. He'd worked tirelessly for the last week, hoping against hope that the Hoffans would have something that would help in the fight against the Wraith. Instead, he—and Perna—created a poison. He caught sight of his diploma hanging over his desk and pulled it off the wall. The words caught his attention.

_Be it known that_

**_Carson Iain Beckett_**

_Having satisfied in full requirements for the degree of_

**_Doctor of Medicine_**

_Has been admitted to that degree with all the rights  
>privileges, and honors pertaining thereto.<em>

The anger faded, and Carson sat down while staring at the diploma. He'd graduated at the top of his class from the University of St. Andrews, and he'd never been one to take his responsibilities lightly. Oh, his work for the SGC had stretched his knowledge, as had his research into the unusual gene he'd discovered before he even joined the SGC. In fact, it was _why_ he was recruited in the first place. His research, part of the requirement for obtaining his medical degree, had garnered the SGC's interest based on their classified work in Antarctica. Several years later, Carson found himself a galaxy away from home and ready to head back at the first opportunity.

Where had he gone wrong? He shook his head as he tried to put the last week into perspective. He'd gone to Hoff after being volun-told by Sheppard, more irritated at the principle of the matter than at the thought of helping someone else. In fact, he'd ranted about being pressed into service. All of that changed, however, when he met Perna. She'd been so lovely from the very beginning, gazing up at him with awestruck eyes, that he'd set aside his reservations to work with her.

And, over the course of the week, he'd fallen for her. Days in her lab, falling asleep at the computer, catnapping between simulations and sharing meals as they spoke of the medical history of their peoples only fed the attraction. He understood Perna, and she really got him. Or so he thought. Their conversation after speaking with Merell came back to Carson, and he sighed.

He and Perna had just left the sanitarium where Merell had chosen to spend his last days. They'd argued about the decision to take the Hoffan drug to live tests. She thought him afraid of making mistakes. _This isn't about making mistakes, Perna—it's about the end justifying the means. And in our profession, that's a very slippery slope._ But it wasn't those words that stuck in his mind. He'd also told her the guiding principle of Earth's medical community: First, do no harm." Or, as it said in Latin, _Primum non nocere_. He'd taken that principle—and the Hippocratic Oath—seriously. And she hadn't understood.

Getting the call about the situation in the medical center hadn't been the scariest part of the entire experience. Carson sighed. Perna's revelation that she'd been one of the first inoculated had frightened him to the core. And for good reason. His moral reservations about taking the drug to live subjects aside, he'd been concerned about how it had reacted to the Wraith—named Steve by Sheppard—and to Merell, who had been terminally ill in the first place. Then, seeing all those people suffering and trying to breathe, knowing he could do nothing more for them. . . .Carson shook his head again and pinched the bridge of his nose.

His headache had now moved into his entire head, making it hard to keep his eyes open. But his mind wouldn't shut down. He'd lost patients before. But none of them had died so uselessly. And not in so many numbers. The Hoffans had voted to continue inoculating their people, resulting in half of their population dying. Including Perna.

Her words on her deathbed came back to him, and Carson felt the press of tears against his eyes. He hadn't wept like that in ages, but the senseless sacrifice of so many people, followed by the death of a woman he loved, pushed him over the edge. _I am at peace with what I have done, as you should be._ Perna's words echoed in his mind, and he pushed out of his chair. How could he be at peace with creating a serum that effectively slaughtered fifty percent of an entire planet's population?

Exhausted beyond words, angry at himself, and tired of thinking, Carson went to take a shower. An hour later, he lay down on his bed and stared at the ceiling until sleep came.

oOo

One month later. . . .

Carson stood in the rear hatch of a Jumper, surveying the ruined city before him. This place had once been a citadel of knowledge and understanding, a sign of Hoffan determination to persevere over the Wraith. Now, it was in ruins. The medical center, with its red brick and cream-colored painted trim, still stood above everything. But its roof had been burned away by fire, and soot blackened the bricks.

"Hey, Doc, you okay?" Aiden Ford's question broke into his thoughts, and Carson glanced at him.

"Aye." He let out a deep breath and moved out of the middle of the path. "Sorry."

"No worries, Doc." Ford moved out of the Jumper and looked around. He let out a low whistle. "Wow."

"Aye," Carson said again. He knew the lieutenant wasn't using the word in a positive sense.

After the storm last week, Atlantis had been making contact with their allies. They weren't allied with Hoff—not after that disaster with the serum—but they'd kept tabs on the people. The chancellor's ideas of spreading the serum to other worlds had concerned Sheppard, and Carson agreed. Then, the storm happened, as well as the Wraith coming to Hoff. It didn't look like one person survived.

Sheppard returned from his quick scout, his face set in a blank mask. Which usually meant he didn't want anyone to see what he thought. Carson wished he could emulate that, but he wasn't in his infirmary. He was in the field, out of his element, and visiting the place of his deepest regret to date. Memories of a beautiful woman with eager eyes and bright smile flitted through his head, and he blinked it away. Perna had made her choice, though she hadn't known what that entailed. He was left to pick up the pieces.

Turning from the devastation, Carson followed Sheppard back into the Jumper. The major closed the rear hatch and activated the controls. "Well, we won't have to worry about that any longer."

"Aye," Carson agreed. It was all he could say. He'd tried to warn Perna of the ramifications of experimenting on human lives. He'd done his best to convince the chancellor to postpone mass inoculations. He'd given everything in him to this project, and it had failed.

A slippery slope. He'd used those exact words with Perna, and he'd meant it. The Hoffan people had been "resolute," as the chancellor called it. They'd resolutely gone down that slope, and they'd failed.

Carson just hoped he'd be smart enough to avoid the exact same slope when it came his turn to face it. As he passed through the wormhole back to Atlantis, he let out a deep breath. By visiting Hoff, he'd confirmed the suspicions they'd had since the storm. That the Wraith had destroyed the world. In visiting, however, he'd done something he'd been unable to accomplish until today. He'd released the past. He'd always remember Perna, would always wish things had been different. But he refused to dwell on it any longer. He couldn't. Not when he had Atlantis waiting for his help.

Satisfied with his decision, though still feeling a bit raw at the loss of Perna and what might have been, Carson returned to his infirmary, his work, and his people. He often thought of Hoff and the events on the world. But he found a measure of peace concerning his part in the drama. _I am at peace with what I have done, as you should be. _ Carson finally understood.

The words of Robert Frost came back to him. "I shall be telling this with a sigh somewhere ages and ages hence: two roads diverged in a wood, and I, I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference." In coming to Pegasus, he'd taken a road not traveled for ten thousand years. It made all the difference in his mind. And it helped him put things into perspective.

The past was the past. The slippery slope had proven too much for him. But he could not dwell on it and hope to live for the future. And, if there was one reason beyond saving lives that Carson Iain Beckett had become a doctor, it was for the purpose of making the future a better place.


	3. Conversion Redux

**Author's Note: **This was written for this week's Carson Beckett Thunk/Whump Challenge. The challenge was to take an episode where there was Carson whump or one where we thought there should be some Carson whump and rewrite it. I chose "Conversion." Enjoy! ~lg

oOo

An unearthly shout of agony echoed through the cave, it's high pitch a testament to the severity of the pain. Carson fell backwards, unable to do much more than let another scream rip from his throat. He'd never had pain shoot through his head like this.

"Carson!" Teyla's should was drowned out by the fire of P90s.

"Doc!" Ronon's roar seemed a bit closer, but Carson could do nothing. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth so that he wouldn't scream again. The creature that had attached itself to his neck tightened its hold. He felt a strong tail wrap under his arm and back up between his shoulders. Before he could say anything, he was hauled to his feet. Another shout came out before he could stop it as pain radiated from his head and down his spine. His neck felt as if he'd pinched a nerve and had been bit by the biggest mosquito that ever lived all at the same time.

"Let's go! Come on!" Lorne's voice seemed close. Carson ground his teeth together as he bounced on Ronon's shoulder. The pain was so severe that his mind formed a partition of sorts. He'd always heard of them in relation to computers, but he'd never experienced this. He felt somewhat distant from the whole situation. Mentally, anyway.

Ronon carried him out of the cave and into the dim light of the planet. He vaguely heard Lorne holler, "Fire in the hole!" before an explosion tossed dirt and debris into the air. Part of it landed in his face as Ronon dropped him on the ground.

"Carson!" Teyla's face appeared.

Carson closed his eyes and took deep breaths, hissing them out as he tried to control his breathing. "I've got. . . .a bug. . . . ."

She nodded. "Yes."

"You remember. . . .what to. . . .do?"

"Yes!" She looked around. "But we do not have the defibrillator with us."

"Aye," he said weakly, understanding the problem. The only way to remove one of these things was to zap the human with the defibrillator, essentially rendering him dead and tricking the bug into releasing its hold. The last time he'd encountered one of these bugs, it had been attached to Colonel Sheppard. Even while he felt his legs and hands go numb, he shook his head at the irony. His mission to the Iratus cave was a direct result of Sheppard's transformation into a humanoid Iratus bug. He tried to give Teyla a smile. "Well, we got. . .the stem cells."

She didn't return the smile. "Stay still, Carson. Ronon's already headed back to the gate. He'll return soon with the equipment we need."

"May not. . .have enough time." Carson pushed out another breath. The ache in his head had transferred to his neck as he felt the bug pulsate. His legs had lost all feeling, however, and he almost looked forward to the numbness that would eventually take over his body. Part of him realized that the effects had spread much faster than they had through Colonel Sheppard's body, and he wondered if his sensitivity to medications had something to do with it. "Need to. . .get back. . . ."

"Carson, stay still." Rodney's voice came from his left as the physicist knelt next to him. "Just stay put, and Ronon'll be back soon with that defibrillator. I mean, he _was_ a Runner, right? He'd be able to get to the gate in. . .what? Ten minutes? Fifteen at the most? Then, fifteen back, so thirty more minutes and we'll have you fixed up."

Carson closed his eyes rather than telling Rodney that the defibrillator might not work. Last time, he'd had to revive Sheppard, and even he had held his breath for a few moments. What was to say that this team—none of whom were doctors—would be able revive him? He didn't have the advantage of having an active wormhole to preserve him in suspended animation should this go wrong.

"Teyla."

"Carson, just remain calm."

He looked at her. "Teyla, love, listen." She clearly sensed the seriousness in his voice, because she took his hand. He appreciated the gesture, even if he could no longer feel it. Near his feet, Lorne paced with his P90 at the ready, looking out for any dangers. Carson turned back to Teyla. "If this goes wrong. . . ."

"But it won't," Rodney stated emphatically.

Carson moved his eyes to look at his best friend. "Rodney, if this goes badly, I need you ta tell my mum. Please?" He moved his head, and the bug attached to his neck shifted. Pain radiated outward, and he squeezed his eyes closed until it faded. "Teyla, make sure this. . .creature. . .gets back to Dr. Biro. She should be able to synthesize the genetic treatment for Colonel Sheppard."

She nodded, her eyes filled with tears. "I will see to it, Carson. Just try to rest."

Satisfied he'd done all he could, Carson closed his eyes against his friends' panicked, pain-filled faces and relaxed against the rock they'd used to support him. The pain had faded into a strange numbness that left all but the area around the creature deadened. The area around the creature throbbed in time to the pulse he felt coming from the bug.

"I hate these bugs," he said under his breath.

"You and Sheppard both," Rodney replied. His hand was still on Carson's shoulder, and Carson appreciated the physicist not abandoning him. The two of them had really become decent friends since the entire Cadman incident. Thinking of that made Carson shudder, and the shudder made the bug tighten its tentacles. Carson clenched his teeth again, but a groan still escaped. Tears came to his eyes and leaked down his face and into his ears. Rodney tensed. "Okay, breathe, Carson, just breathe!"

"I. . .am!" Carson ground out between his teeth. "Just don't make me move!"

Rodney fell silent, not knowing what to say. Carson appreciated the awkwardness as they waited. The bug attached to his neck made a strange warbling sound, seeming rather loud in his ear. He kept his eyes closed most of the time, opening them only when he wanted to see what was happening. Time stretched on, and Carson caught sight of Rodney checking his watch. At least Teyla and Lorne had managed not to panic, though he noticed a distinct absence. "Where are. . . .the others?"

Lorne gave him a frustrated glance and shook his head. Carson got the message. Walker and Stevens had sacrificed their lives to make sure he made it back to Atlantis. Unfortunately, he wasn't sure he had it in him to survive much longer. Even the pain in his neck was starting to dim, leaving him unable to move at all.

"Carson?" Teyla picked up on his sigh.

"I'm fine, love." He licked his lips, amazed at how soft his voice sounded.

Rodney snorted, knowing that numbness was a very, very bad sign. "The fact that you can breathe again would contradict you."

"Aye, an' that's because I'm numb." Carson met his friends' eyes. "I'm fine right now."

"No, you're not." Rodney glared. "And don't pretend like you're Sheppard, either. Even _he_ didn't act like he was fine when he had one of these things attached to him!"

Carson couldn't argue with that.

An inordinate amount of time later, Ronon came running back to the cave. The former Runner breathed hard, a testament of how much speed he'd put into his journey, and handed a pack to Teyla. Carson recognized the defibrillator typically kept in the Jumpers.

Teyla started pulling things from the case. "Carson. . . ."

"I know, love." He met her eyes. "I know ye'll have ta kill the bugger, but we need. . . ."

"I know." She put a hand on his shoulder. "You will be fine."

Carson pressed his lips together. "Just. . .if it doesn't. . . ."

Rodney exchanged a glance with Teyla. "I will, Carson. You have my word."

Nothing more was said as Teyla unbuttoned Carson's shirt as Rodney added the gel to the paddles. After receiving one quick nod from Carson, Teyla put the paddles on his chest and pressed the button. The shock went through his system, resulting in one final burst of agony. Then, everything went black.

oOo

The sound of someone entering the cubicle where Carson rested pulled him from a happy doze. He opened his eyes and turned his head slightly so as not to agitate the wound on his neck. Dr. Biro had examined him and assured him that the wound would heal. Carson suspected he might have an ever-so-slight scar there, but he would soon lose the tenderness.

Rodney stood in the opening between the two curtains. "Hey."

"Hello, Rodney." Carson shifted in the bed. "Come in."

"How are you?"

"Oh, I'll live." He smiled at his friend. "Feeling finally returned to my feet."

"Yeah, I heard there was a slight pinched nerve."

"Aye." Carson swallowed. "How's the colonel?"

"Um. . .he's fine." Rodney shrugged. "Biro says it'll be a couple of weeks."

"Aye, she's right." Carson shook his head. "I'm just very glad he'll recover."

"Well, we couldn't have done it without your. . .uh. . .you know." Rodney made a motion toward his neck.

Carson nodded slightly, the pain medication making him drowsy.

Rodney jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. "I'm gonna. . . ."

"Aye," he said again. "Thanks for comin', Rodney."

"Yeah." Rodney left then, letting Carson drift back into the comfortable darkness. He settled back into his pillow, appreciating how it cradled his neck. He'd have other visitors as time wore on, but he was happy for the quiet. He was home, would recover, and had his friends close.

At this moment, he couldn't ask for more.


	4. Enough

**Author's Note:** Okay, this came to me when I decided I wanted a fluffy Carson story to use to ignore my cold. It features a character created by **pisces317**, and is used with her permission. Also, the time frame for the episodes is a little difficult to figure out. If you have any questions, please ask, and I'll explain why I timed things the way I did. Enjoy! ~lg

*athair: Scottish Gaelic for "father."

oOo

Feeling like he hadn't slept the night before, Carson Beckett trudged into the infirmary on Atlantis and walked straight to his office. His head pounded, his eyes felt like sandpaper, and he could barely breathe. In addition, his throat, while not sore, was scratchy and making his voice sound more like Ronon's growl than his usual tenor. He knew the diagnosis without ever asking Amanda to head over to him. He had a cold.

Closing his office door, Carson snagged a box of Kleenex and made sure his tea was close by. He'd managed to swipe some of the English Breakfast tea in the cafeteria and made it to his liking. The Athosian version of honey sweetened it, and it helped with the scratchiness in his voice. He'd not taken any medications the night before and likely would tonight. If this didn't let off, that is. He'd never been one to take medications until coming to Pegasus, but he'd rarely needed to take them. Which explained why this cold got on his nerves so badly. How did he manage to come down with a common Earth malady in the middle of the Pegasus galaxy?

"There you are." Rodney McKay's voice interrupted his thoughts, and Carson glanced up with a frown.

"Where else would I be, Rodney?"

"The morning briefing?"

Carson swore under his breath and glanced at his watch. Of course he'd forgotten the morning briefing. It went with the rest of his day. "Give me a moment."

"Oh, don't worry about it." Rodney smiled smugly. "I told Elizabeth you weren't feeling very well last night, and she understood."

"Oh, well that's very kind of you," Carson said sarcastically. He would have preferred no one knew he was sick. It made his work a lot easier. "Did I miss anything?"

"Not really." Rodney folded his arms. "Just the daily reports, security stuff, and an annoying complaint about _me_."

"You?"

"Yeah. I'm not sure why." Rodney shook his head, seeming rather amazed that anyone would dare complain about his arrogant, superior attitude.

Carson let out a breath and tried to pretend he felt better than he actually did. "Well, if that's it, then, I _do_ have work to get done."

Rodney frowned. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Peachy. Why?"

"Because you look a little pale."

"It's a cold, Rodney." Carson waved a hand. "I'll be fine."

"You sure?" The physicist held up both hands when Carson gave him an annoyed look. "Fine. You'll be fine. Right. See you later." With that, he walked out of the office.

As the door closed behind him, Carson sat back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. He really didn't feel as good as he'd pretended to Rodney and should be resting. Instead, he sat here glaring at paperwork and wondering why he didn't take one of the dozen or so personal days he'd built up since his last stay in the infirmary.

Had it really been six months since he'd sprained his knee and given himself a concussion bad enough to warrant an overnight stay? Carson shook his head and tried to remember the adventure. There had been so many of them in recent months. That time, however, he'd been off world on a routine check-in with one of their allies. On the way back to the gate, the weather decided to turn nasty. The rain drenched them in seconds, and Carson had done his best to keep going. However, the path to the gate led past a steep hill, and the mud gave way under his feet. His head made the acquaintance of a rock on his way down the slope, and he'd awakened in the infirmary under observation. The concussion had faded within the week, but his knee had taken four months to fully heal. Even now, it twinged at odd times.

Just thinking about the whole affair made his knee ache, something he ignored as he reached for yet another Kleenex. He hated colds in general and having them in particular, though he wasn't surprised. They'd been going around Atlantis with the change in season, and Carson figured it was his turn to be sick.

The hours passed slowly as Carson waded through the paperwork on his desk. The last few weeks had been chaotic, what with Kolya kidnapping and allowing a Wraith to feed on Sheppard. The colonel's life had ultimately been returned to him by said Wraith. If that wasn't mind-bending enough, Carson had spent hours hallucinating that one of his patients had died while off world while he let another one actually die. He could use a break, he figured. And he decided that today was the best day to do something about the backlog on his desk.

Finally, as noon approached, the door to his office opened, and he looked up in surprise. Sarah McKenzie, a nurse recently arrived on the _Daedalus_, appeared holding a tray that had an insulated carafe, tea bags, honey, sugar, and a bowl of steaming soup. She glanced over at him and flushed as she carried it to his desk. "Dr. Cole asked me to bring this to you."

"Oh, did she, now?" Carson smiled to let the younger woman know she was welcome. Her green eyes flitted over his face and back to the tray, and a blush darkened her cheeks to a delightful shade of pink. Sheppard had called her cute once, but Carson revised that statement. With long blond hair so straight it seemed to fold over her shoulders and down her back, those amazing green eyes, and an air of elegance, she was absolutely stunning.

"She did," Sarah said, bringing Carson back to reality. He cleared a spot on his desk, and she set the tray down long enough to hand him a bowl of chicken noodle soup. "She also said you'd refuse to take medication so I was to make sure you ate every bite and drank at least one good cuppa."

He grinned at that. Sarah may have been American, but her globe-trotting family spent most of her formative years in England. She spoke with an accent that sounded like a mix between New York and London. "Then, have a seat, love." Carson cleared the stack of files off of a chair he'd used when he'd run out of space on his desk.

As she settled, he took a bite of the soup. He shook his head when he realized that canned chicken noodle soup tasted good. Rather than thinking about it, he let the warm broth soothe his throat as he eyed Sarah. She didn't just plop into the chair, but lowered herself gracefully and reached with long, slender fingers to pour two cups of tea. She added a teaspoon of sugar to one, a good-sized dallop of honey, and handed it to Carson. Yes, Amanda had coached her well. Carson accepted the tea with a smile and watched her fix her cup. When she'd finished, he took a sip of his. The brew was a bit weak, but the sugar and honey made up for it. _Aye, ye're sick_, he thought. _The only time ye like tea this sweet is when ye've got a cold._

"So, tell me, Sarah, how long have you been on Atlantis?" Carson tried not to mentally kick himself. As Chief of Medicine, he knew how long she'd been there. He'd hired her based on her credentials alone. But he wanted to hear her talk in that delightful accent and just enjoy something other than solitude for the moment.

"Just a week." She sat with her back straight, perched on the edge of the chair as if one wrong move would make her bolt. "I like it, though. It's different."

"Aye," Carson agreed. He wished he knew how to make her feel more comfortable. "You get used to it, though. Within a month, you'll be so accustomed to twenty-seven-hour-long days and constant mentions of Wraith that it won't even faze you."

"That's what everyone says," she replied. "I'll believe it when I see it." Then, she eyed him. "You've been here since the beginning, right?"

"Oh, aye." Carson ate a few bites of soup. "I went back home for a time after the Siege, saw my family. But I was glad to get back."

"How do they handle you being away?" Though she made it sound nonchalant, there was more to Sarah's question than mere curiosity. The way she shifted in her chair when she asked and the slight tremble in her voice told him that she still hadn't adjusted to life in Pegasus.

"My family?" He thought for a moment. "My mum doesn't mention it when I'm at home, but I know she'd prefer me to work in Scotland. Closer to home. My _athair*_ passed a few years back."

"I'm sorry I asked."

"Don't be, love." He smiled. "I come from a family of seven, and Mum is quite looked after."

She looked down at her tea, turning the cup in her hands and drawing his eyes to her fingers. "I'm the eldest of two." She shook her head. "Mum didn't take it well when I left. But it's what I wanted to do, and I refused to live her life for her."

Carson waited until she looked up, seeing a determination in those green eyes that contradicted her delicate appearance. This one would do well here. He smiled at her. "You've made the right choice."

She returned the smile at the same time that his computer beeped, telling him he'd received an email. Sarah's face cleared, and she set her teacup on the edge of his desk. "I should let you get back to work."

Carson hated to admit she was right. "Thank you for bringing this."

"You're welcome, Dr. Beckett."

"Call me Carson. Everyone does."

She lifted one finely-sculpted eyebrow at him. "Very well. . .Carson."

When she turned to go, he realized he didn't want to see her leave just yet. "Sarah?" He waited until she faced him. "Would you care to join me for dinner in a day or so when this cold goes on its merry way?"

She smiled again, this time adding a sparkle to her eyes. "I'd love to." And, with that, she left him alone.

oOo

**Two months later**

**Earth**

Carson waited in the SGC infirmary for the new arrivals to finish with their physicals. So much had happened in the last eight weeks that he wasn't sure where to begin. He and Sarah had shared that dinner two days after their conversation in the office, and that led to a fairly steady relationship that both of them were careful to keep out of their work. A week after their first date, the _Daedalus_ found a ship full of Ancients in the void between galaxies. The return of the Ancients to Atlantis resulted in the Expedition being kicked back to Earth. In those weeks between his cold and their return to Earth, he and Sarah had decided that they wanted to pursue something more between them than the secret date here and there.

Then, her mother's health deteriorated rapidly. Sarah had returned to New York to care for her mother, leaving Carson at the SGC. They shared daily phone calls, and Carson spent an evening with her family during a twenty-four-hour layover in his flight from Scotland to Denver. He could have taken one without the layover, but seeing Sarah in the airport, waiting for him, was well worth the inconvenience. At her family's Fifth Avenue home, her father grilled him about his family past and his education. It felt like an interview to be in the family, and Carson had tried to give Sarah an encouraging smile. There was no way her family would scare him off. Even the Wraith hadn't done that.

Now, though, he was thrilled. But it was a bittersweet joy. Sarah's mother had passed away a week ago, and Carson had flown out for the memorial. He'd sat in the massive church, holding Sarah's hand while she grieved. Her younger brother, who was attending Harvard Law, pulled Carson aside and gave him the Big Brother talk. Apparently, Sarah had called Carson immediately after calling the doctor helping with her mother's care. It spoke of how deeply she cared for the Scot as well as the level of trust she had in him.

The door to the office he'd appropriated opened, and _she_ appeared. She'd lost some weight in the last few weeks, but she was still the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. She hesitated for only a moment and then threw herself into his arms in an uncharacteristic show of emotion. Carson held her close, savoring the feel of her, while she cried on his shoulder.

Finally, she pulled back. "It's so good to see you!"

"Aye, it is." He smiled. Rather than saying anything else, he leaned down and kissed her. He'd meant it to be soft and gentle, but she took it to another level. Before long, he was forced to pull back for some air. "Hello, love!"

She flushed. "Sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for." He smiled and took her hand in his. "I've been meanin' to talk to you about what we have."

Sarah nodded. "I wanted to, as well. But Mother's health. . . ." Her voice cracked as tears came to her eyes.

Carson pulled her into his arms and simply held her as she cried. He suspected she hadn't truly wept since her mother's death, but he hadn't said as much. Her family demanded much from her, and she'd had the strength to become a nurse instead of going into law with her father. She would make it through this, as well. And he would help her.

oOo

Six weeks and another long separation later, Carson and Sarah were reunited on Atlantis. They "went public" with their relationship, resulting in Sarah working in a totally different department. Until then, Carson hadn't realized she also had a degree in marine biology. In fact, she'd obtained that degree before getting her nurse's degree. He'd shaken his head upon learning that and happily let her change departments to prevent a conflict of interest.

Three months later, he was caught in an explosion during a rare day off on Atlantis. He and Sarah had planned a fishing trip, but Amanda Cole's migraine forced him to stay behind. Sarah had understood, and shared lunch with him in the infirmary. When exploding tumors necessitated an emergency surgery, Sarah had waited tensely in a safe zone, nearly panicking when the tumor exploded before fully encased in the containment vessel. The resulting explosion severely injured Carson, leaving him in a coma for a week before sending him back to Earth for a lengthy recovery. Sarah stayed with him for most of that time, returning to Atlantis only after he'd been set up at his mother's house. She emailed often, and Carson loved reading her long missives when the weekly status report came through the gate. He was saddened to learn of Elizabeth's death, feeling that he should have been there to help.

Six months after the explosion, Carson returned to Atlantis. The shrapnel that embedded itself in his back and leg left him with a permanent limp—something he hadn't told Sarah. He knew she wouldn't care if he limped or not, but it bothered him. He still worked, having spent a lot of time in the SGC infirmary. But he was more anxious to see her than he was to return to his duties as Chief of Medicine.

Atlantis's new commander, Samantha Carter, greeted him in the gate room, and Carson was gracious while still impatient. She let him go, and he found Sarah in her lab. While on Earth, he'd picked up a few things for her, but he knew he'd only give one of them to her today. She wasn't ready for the ring, yet, even though he knew where their relationship was headed.

In her lab, Sarah glanced up from her computer screen as the door opened. Carson stopped just inside, waiting to see how she'd react. While she had her exuberant moments, her nature was more reserved. She glanced around, realizing they were alone, and threw herself at him. He caught her and laughed just before she claimed his mouth for a long kiss.

When he finally drew back, he smiled. "It's good to see you, love."

"You, too!" She straightened and looped her arm through his as she headed back to the computer. Carson limped along with her, drawing a frown. "What happened?"

"An explosion," he answered wryly. As her brow furrowed, he explained the damage the shrapnel had done. Her green eyes never left his except when he pointed out the muscle groups that had been damaged. Finally, he shrugged. "I'm sorry I never told ye, love, but I didn't want ta do it in an email."

"But you're okay?" She frowned. "I mean, you're fully recovered except that?"

"Aye."

To his surprise, she smacked his arm. "Carson, you should have told me! I can handle a limp knowing you're okay." Then, she calmed. "But I understand why you didn't."

"You're not angry?"

"You lived, which we didn't know would happen for about a week." She shrugged. "How could I _not_ be okay with that?"

The smile that he'd kept at bay finally covered his face, and he pulled her close to kiss her temple. "Sarah, love, it's good to be home."

"It's good to have you home." She saved her work, and they walked out of the lab together.

Later that evening, Carson pulled out one of the gifts he'd brought for her. A gold necklace with two hearts entwined, holding a single diamond between them, dangled from his fingers. He slipped it around her neck and moved her hair to fasten it. "It's how I see us," he explained.

Sarah fingered it for a long moment. "It's beautiful." She turned to face him, her eyes shining with tears. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

They spent the evening wrapped in one another's arms, sharing hopes and dreams for the future. No matter what happened—and they knew chaos would hit—they'd have each other. For the two of them, it was enough.


	5. Drabbles

**Author's Note:** A bit of housekeeping. For those of you following "Those Who Survive," I apologize for not posting a chapter yesterday. I was in the process of switching computers, and I did not have the focus to edit a chapter after getting everything switched around and reformatting the other one. I haven't lost any of the work, and posting will resume on Monday. :)

This story, however, is a series of drabbles for the Carson Beckett Challenges and Fun thread over on Gateworld. The challenge this week was to write a drabble or drabbles using the following words as inspiration: clock, game, skeleton, bed, fly, book, gift, stairs, pray, ring, wire, thunder, knife, picture. I decided to use all of them and include word count underneath the word used. These contain spoilers for multiple episodes, so just consider yourself warned as they span the entire series. One of them is quite sad, so a tissue alert might also be handy. Enjoy! ~lg

oOo

Skeleton  
>96 words<p>

A plastic skeleton hung in the corner as Dr. Carson Beckett stood at the podium. He had twenty minutes before his guest lecture began, and he wasn't worried about the content. Just that he delivered it so it was understood.

The door opened, and a girl walked in. He normally wouldn't have noticed save for her obvious youth. Not yet eighteen, she dropped her bag at a table and sat down, eying him carefully. He smiled at her and went back to his notes.

He didn't realize he'd just met his protege: a young Jennifer Keller.

oOo

Book  
>98 words<p>

A book hit the floor midway through his lecture. Carson turned, as it echoed in the massive lecture hall. Only a handful of students had come out, but he taught as if he faced a crowd of a hundred.

The girl he'd noticed flushed to the roots of her hair, and she bent to pick up the large textbook while the young man next to her rolled his eyes. Carson saw the disdain they had for her, but he also recognized himself in her. If he could encourage her to continue her studies, she might accomplish great things.

oOo

Clock  
>100 words<p>

When the clock struck the hour, the lecture hall emptied. Carson stood behind the podium, knowing that most of the students had come to hear his lesson only because it would garner them extra attention. But he taught anyway. If he could influence one young doctor, it would be worth it.

"Excuse me?" The girl approached him. "I have a question."

Carson motioned to the stairs leading onto the stage. "Come on up, love." He smiled. "I was hopin' for a chance to talk with ya. I'm Carson Beckett."

She blushed and mumbled, "Jennifer Keller."

oOo

Gift  
>99 words<p>

Jennifer Keller had a gift. Carson saw it from the moment she entered the lecture hall. The first question out of her mouth only proved it. She wanted to know about an unknown gene he'd identified and written about in his thesis for the University of St. Andrews. They spent the better part of three hours discussing genetics as Carson bought her a mocha frappe at the university's coffee shop. In spite of her age, he recognized true brilliance. He left her university after making a note to follow her career.

He didn't see her again for seven years.

oOo

Thunder  
>107 words<p>

Thunder rumbled overhead, so different from the Pegasus galaxy. Carson stood in the SGC's parking garage, glaring at the rain. The last time he'd been in a storm, he'd nearly crashed a Jumper. He wanted to forget that, thank you very much.

"Dr. Beckett?" The voice was different, but he recognized it just the same. He'd kept true to his promise concerning this young woman.

He turned and smiled. "Dr. Keller! It's great ta see ye!"

She flushed like she had so many years ago and nodded. "Likewise." After a moment's hesitation, she peeked up at him. "Do you have a few moments?"

oOo

Fly  
>100 words<p>

_Time flies when you're in another galaxy,_ Carson thought as he returned to the SGC that night. Jennifer Keller had made headlines as the youngest person to graduate medical school, and her work in genetics had drawn the attention of the SGC. Most notably, Dr. Carolyn Lam, the SGC's new Chief of Medicine. Carson headed for his room as he smiled.

Catching up with Jennifer had been a joy, and the two had kindled the friendship they'd felt seven years ago. His mind went to his purpose for being on Earth, and he smiled. Atlantis could benefit from Jennifer's brilliance.

oOo

Ring  
>110 words<p>

Carson watched Jennifer twist the ring on her right hand as she struggled to give him an answer. "I can't." Her voice was whisper-soft.

He wanted to ask why but sensed the tension in her posture and grief in her gaze. "What is it, love?" Over his time on Earth, he'd come to know her well, and he'd often seen this same expression.

"My mother." She lifted her chin, but tears filled her eyes. "She passed away a couple months ago. I'm all my dad has left, and I can't go off. . . ."

"I understand." He hugged her and left the subject alone.

oOo

Pray  
>110 words<p>

Jennifer was in the gate room when Carson beamed aboard the _Daedalus_. He faced a three-week journey back to Atlantis. Now, he walked over to her and met her eyes. "If ya need anythin', love, just call."

"I will, Carson." She smiled sadly. "You'll be okay?"

"Aye." He gave her a quick hug. "Take care o' yourself."

"You, too." She waved as he disappeared into the transport beam. "I'll pray for you." Her words were barely heard before he reached the _Daedalus_.

When a Wraith computer virus took over the ship, Carson remembered her promise and hoped she'd mentioned them in her prayers.

oOo

Stairs and Picture  
>200 words<p>

Carson took the stairs at the SGC two at a time. He'd been back on Earth for two days, most of it spent explaining how the Ancients had taken over Atlantis. He stung from the insult, and he knew it would take time to get over leaving the Ancient city. But, for now, he looked forward to dinner with a friend.

Jennifer had been waiting for him when he stepped through the wormhole. She'd greeted him with a smile and shy wave, and Carson looked forward to their dinner tonight. It wasn't romantic, just old friends reconnecting. With Rodney off at Area 51, he didn't need to worry about being teased.

After changing into street clothes, he rushed to the surface and met Jennifer at her car. She'd grown a lot in the last couple of years, and it showed in her speech and attitude.

Their dinner passed with laughter and stories whispered over a linen tablecloth. Jennifer had been shy at first, but she soon relaxed. As he snapped a picture of the two of them on his new phone, he thought about how good it felt to have friends around him, no matter which galaxy was his home.

oOo

Bed  
>115 words<p>

Jennifer kept that picture of her and Carson beside her bed. She'd returned to Atlantis with him and had settled into an easy routine. The day he'd died—a week ago, now—she'd cried until she slept. Now, she lay down after another long day in the infirmary and stared at his smiling face.

"Why did you have to do it?" Tears leaked out of her eyes as she tried not to break down again. "I need you here."

Her emotions overwhelmed her, and she once again wept for one of the best men she'd ever known. In her mind, Dr. Carson Beckett made her the doctor she'd become. She wouldn't forget him anytime soon.

oOo

Game  
>110 words<p>

Until he saw the scans for himself, Carson Beckett believed his friends were playing a cruel game of Torture the Scot. But, staring at the computer screen, he couldn't deny the truth. He was a clone. "And you're certain it's from _my_ sample?"

"I ran the tests myself twice." Jennifer's voice was even stronger than he remembered, and her gaze steady. "There's no mistake. I'm sorry."

Carson let out a deep breath. Rodney tried to convince him that he was the same old Carson Beckett he'd thought he was for the last two years. But it was too little, too late. Life would never be the same.

oOo

Knife  
>121 words<p>

"I'm sorry. I don't dare make another incision," Carson said just after Jennifer crashed. When he, Teyla, and Rodney discovered tendrils growing out of her abdomen, he'd experienced a moment of panic. His time in Michael's custody had hardened him, but the fear he felt for Jennifer was magnified when he cut off that tendril.

As a doctor, he knew he'd eventually have friends who "went under the knife," but he'd never expected it to be Jennifer. She was always so healthy and full of vitality. Now, she lay there, slowly mutating into what they later learned would be a Wraith Hive.

When the entire crisis was over, Carson made sure to hug Jennifer before he returned to Earth.

oOo

Wire  
>109 words<p>

Atlantis had survived again. They'd squeaked into the Pacific Ocean just before the ZPM was depleted. Just under the wire, as Rodney had said. Carson stared at the Golden Gate Bridge, enjoying the feel of the breeze on his face and the chatter of his friends close by. One voice, in particular, stood out to him.

Never in his wildest dreams would he have put Jennifer Keller and Rodney McKay together. But they were happy, and that made Carson happy.

With Atlantis back on Earth, he couldn't help but feel he'd come full circle. Oh, he could never return to Scotland, but he was home. Right where he belonged.


	6. The Wounds of a Friend

**Author's Note:** This one-shot was written in response to the Carson Beckett Challenge on Gateworld. The challenge this week was to write a story where Carson got whumped—whether accidentally or not—by one of his friends. It is set shortly before the Season One episode "Suspicion," and also contains mild spoilers for that episode and "Poisoning the Well." Enjoy! ~lg

oOo

"_Faithful are the wounds of a friend; but the kisses of an enemy are deceitful."_

_Proverbs 27:6_

oOo

Major John Sheppard stalked toward the infirmary with his jaw set and his mind made up. It was way past time the doc understood the score, and he intended to tell him. In detail. As kindly as possible. As firmly as possible. And come away alive.

He hoped, anyway. Carson Beckett was a formidable opponent when angered or denied his way. And _that's_ what had gotten them into this entire situation in the first place. Oh the doc didn't push very often—only when a patient needed help—but he'd decided to push at the _exact_ wrong moment.

In the infirmary, Sheppard ignored the nervous glances and walked toward the bed housing the injured Chief of Medicine. Carson lay on a bunch of pillows, his face almost as white as the sheets. His leg was propped up, though he'd be back up and about within a couple of days. It was the nasty blow to his head that resulted in his overnight stay. And in the pain obviously etched into his features. Still, he opened his eyes and smiled at his visitor. "Major. What can I do for ye?"

Sheppard wasn't fooled by the gentle voice or rich Scottish accent. "_What_ were you thinking?"

Beckett blinked at him. Of all the things he'd expected, it wasn't this. "I'm sorry?"

"Back on that planet." Sheppard propped his hands on his hips and worked to keep his voice down. He took another step toward the doctor's hospital bed. "I _told_ you to head for the gate. I _ordered_ you to head for the gate."

Beckett glared. "I'm not. . . ."

". . .military, I know!" Sheppard finished the sentence. "You know, Doc, I'm getting really tired of hearing that excuse any time you don't want to do something. I thought you'd get the hint, especially when the Wraith showed up. I even _pushed_ you forward, and you fought me off!"

"Someone was hurt!" Beckett straightened, his wince of pain not registering with Sheppard. "I couldnae leave them behind!"

"Yes, Doc, you could have!" Sheppard's voice was deceptively soft. "Now, I understand you're a doctor. I get the fact that you're not military, that you're also not a US citizen. But _this_ isn't America!" He motioned around him. "This is a colony of _Earth_, and there are times you have to trust us—_me—_to make the right decision. _Even_ if it means leaving people behind that we can't help."

"You don't know that!" Beckett said rather heatedly. "For the record, Major, you're the one who went back for Teyla and Colonel Sumner and our people!"

"Yeah, and _I'm_ also the one who had to leave Sumner behind." Sheppard glared at the too-recent memory. "Even _I _didn't try to rescue someone who was beyond rescue."

"I'm not you, Major!"

"That's right. You're _not_! You're a _doctor_ who has _no_ combat training or _any_ idea of what we face out there! You leave this infirmary when we tell you to, and you prefer to stay here!" Sheppard's anger started to get the best of him. He clenched a fist to keep his temper in check. "You need to learn a _lot_ about how this galaxy works before you go trying to tell _me_ how to run a military op. Because, no matter what you may like to think, this _is_ a military op. The mission was military, the leader of the mission was military, and the situation called for a military solution. Having to go back for you because you got yourself injured by not following orders not only endangered you. It endangered the _entire_ team." Sheppard saw his words make an impact on the normally tenderhearted physician. "Think about that next time."

Without another word, he stormed out of the infirmary and toward the sparring rooms. Maybe Teyla would be available to spar and help him ease some of this frustration. And, maybe then, he'd find the will to apologize to Beckett. For now, he wanted to let the situation linger so maybe the doctor would realize his error.

oOo

Carson glared at Major Sheppard's back as the man strode out of the infirmary. _Of all the inconsiderate, arrogant, demeaning things ta do!_ His thoughts continued in that vein for several moments after the major disappeared. Several rather colorful Scottish words punctuated his thoughts as he worked to quell the almost intolerable rage that blossomed within his chest.

Major Sheppard didn't know the half of what he was talking about. Carson had been very careful to avoid telling Sheppard exactly what had happened on that world, but he couldn't shut out the images for very long. Not after bruising his knee quite badly and winding up with the worst concussion he'd ever had.

Carson closed his eyes, trying to shut out the light of the infirmary that made him want to vomit, but he couldn't shut out the sounds. The panicked voice calling his name. The sight of a friend barely keeping ahead of the Wraith. The small child that fell. The shouts and screams around him, combining with the whine of Wraith darts. He wanted to forget everything that had happened, but the images kept playing through his head.

A rustle of cloth pulled him out of a light, tortured doze, and he blinked as Teyla moved tentatively to his bedside. She wore the leather top and flowing skirt that indicated she'd just come from a sparring session. Her hair, which typically fell around her face, still clung to her neck although she'd obviously cooled down. Carson eyed her bare feet and thought it absolutely fitting that she didn't wear shoes when moving between her quarters and the sparring rooms.

She met his eyes. "You did not tell Major Sheppard."

Carson knew exactly what she meant. "No." He shrugged, shoving down the residual anger at the major. "I dinnae see the reason for it."

Teyla touched his hand. "Carson, _I_ am the reason you turned back."

"Aye, an' Major Sheppard's right. I dinnae listen ta orders." Carson met her eyes. "Don't worry, love. The major and I will work out our differences."

"Be that as it may, I cannot allow Major Sheppard to believe that you turned back to help someone you do not know." She shook her head. "I owe you my life, Carson. And I do not want to see Major Sheppard hesitate to bring you along on the next mission simply because of one incident."

Carson stared at her, not entirely sure how to respond. Teyla saved him the trouble and left his side. He assumed she was heading to see Major Sheppard and let out a deep breath. She was right. He'd turned back to help her.

Closing his eyes, he saw the scene again. They'd come to this world to help with an outbreak of influenza. Well, as close to influenza as one could get on an alien world. Carson had fussed about going through the Stargate and made a big deal out of it. Major Sheppard and Lieutenant Ford both found it highly amusing although Teyla struggled to understand. Halfway through their visit—and in the middle of Carson's explanation of the disease—the Wraith appeared. They swept the village, scooping as many of the panicked visitors into their darts as possible. As the team ran for the gate, Carson heard Teyla call for help. The darts had begun beaming Wraith drones into the village. Teyla was running behind Carson, carrying a child not more than three years old while two older children clung to her. She called out for help right as one of the children fell and smacked his head on a statue in the middle of the town square. Carson rushed back, ignoring Sheppard's hollered order to get to the gate, to assist Teyla with the children. He managed to get the fallen child onto his feet right as a Wraith stunner blast hit him in the chest. From what he'd been told, he fell directly onto the corner of the statue, bruising his knee and giving himself quite the concussion.

He supposed that, had he followed Sheppard's orders, that the injuries to his own body would have been avoided. But he also figured they would have lost Teyla. She managed to save those three children, and the Athosians had welcomed them with open arms. Now, he just needed to find a way to forgive Sheppard. He couldn't work on this base and hold a grudge.

Closing his eyes, he felt his own exhaustion and the concussion take over. Figuring he'd think through all of this later, he allowed his mind to wander and his body to fall into a restful sleep.

oOo

Three weeks later. . . .

Carson favored his bruised knee as he rushed toward the gate. He'd been called off world again, even after that disastrous mission to Hoff, and his knee was telling him that he didn't need to be straining it much further. The Wraith had appeared again, this time in response to a betrayal in the village rather than Teyla's now-unused necklace. Apparently someone thought they could take over the ruling party by calling the Wraith down on their enemies, and they timed it just so that the Atlantis team was there.

Carson herded a young woman and her son out the front door of the house, pushing them down the street while telling them to stick to the shadows. The screams that came curdled his blood and made him want to weep. He could do nothing to save those people. But, if he could save just one. . . .

"Beckett!" Sheppard's voice came through his radio. "Get to the gate!"

Time seemed to stop. Carson halted in the doorway of the house, mentally going back in time three weeks to the night he'd been lying in that hospital bed while the major chastised him for his reckless behavior. He'd assimilated what Sheppard said and had worked to listen closer to orders and such like. But he had not been put in that same situation again. Until now. In that millisecond, he saw people rushing toward him, toward the supposed safety of the house, their faces masks of terror and panic. He heard their cries, sensed children seeking missing mothers and fathers. And he saw the Wraith bearing down on his position. Stunners appeared, and men, women, and children fell in a brutal fashion as they were dragged away to become some beast's meal.

"Beckett!" Teyla appeared in his face. "We must hurry!"

The spell broken, Carson followed her while his heart shattered. He suddenly understood Sheppard's position. He _couldn't_ save them. But, by getting away, he _could_ save others in the future. They gained valuable intel with every encounter with the Wraith, and that information could be used to assist some other world. This one might be lost, but they could save another if they saved themselves. Having that knowledge did not make it any easier to leave these people to their fate, but it calmed the grudge Carson still felt for Sheppard.

That night, Carson pulled the bottle of Scotch from his drawer, grabbed two glasses, and went in search of the major. He found Sheppard on a balcony alone and didn't say a word. He simply handed the glass to the other man and poured each one of them two fingers. Then, they stared at the stars for a time.

"Rough day." Sheppard finally broke the silence.

"Aye." Carson took a deep breath. "Major, for what it's worth. . . ."

"Don't mention it," Sheppard interrupted. "Teyla told me what happened."

"Aye, but I think I understand now." Carson shook his head. "I couldnae help Perna. And I couldnae help today. It's. . . ." He stopped speaking as his emotions took over.

Sheppard glanced at him and raised his glass. "To rough days."

Carson smiled and clinked his glass with the major's in a toast. "Aye. To rough days."

That night, as he crawled into bed, he let out a deep breath. His mum used to say something that he'd never understood until now. _Faithful are the wounds of a friend._ She'd usually meant to tell him that she was right and that he would appreciate it later. Now, he thought of the phrase and knew what it meant. A friend might say things that were hurtful or even not deserved. But a true friend—the kind of friend Major Sheppard meant to be—usually had one's best interest at heart.

Exhausted from a long, heartbreaking day, Carson Beckett drifted to sleep, thankful for the friends he'd made since coming to the Pegasus galaxy.


	7. Except In Dreams

**Author's Note:** This one-shot was written in response to the Carson Beckett Challenges and Fun challenge of the week. The challenge was, "Carson has fallen asleep at his desk again. Why? It must include whump for one of the characters and be from Carson's POV." Well, the "why" is in here, but it may not be super-obvious. This is something of a tag to "Conversion" and takes place in the two weeks that Sheppard was in the infirmary. Hope you enjoy! ~lg

oOo

The swing set screamed with every movement of the tortured chain. Carson Beckett looked up at the bearings supporting his weight and frowned. Someone needed to grease them so they'd stop sounding like incredibly loud crickets. But he kept pumping his legs to propel himself higher and higher.

The creaking changed to more of a screech. _Good Lord_, he thought. _It sounds like a woman in pain!_ But he kept moving until the swing jumped and his stomach tightened every time the ground rushed up to meet him. He idly thought that he might want to slow down, but the thought left him when he looked at the horizon.

"Good Lord!" He spoke aloud this time as realization dawned. He was in the playground on one of Edinburgh's elite parks. "I havenae been here in. . . ." His mind added the years, and he shook his head. He hadn't been to this park in thirty years.

Thinking back to the last time he'd seen this horizon, he shook his head. He'd flown out of Edinburgh to take his posting in Pegasus. But he hadn't visited this park then. So why was he here now?

Shaking his head a second time to clear it, Carson blinked. A small boy, looking remarkably like his brother Calum had at that age, ran in front of the swing. Carson couldn't stop his forward momentum, and he slammed into the boy without warning. Calum went down with a scream as Carson's swing bucked and twisted. He lost his grip and fumbled with the chain.

"No!" His cry did nothing to stop what happened next. Somehow, his fingers caught on the chain as his body fell. The resulting jerk dislocated his shoulder and broke his index finger. He screamed in agony, biting it off to a groan and rolling onto his back. The now-empty swing slowed as he carefully sat up. Five other children plus a man—his father!—crowded around the fallen boy.

Carson pushed to his feet and rushed over. "Let me through! I'm a doctor!"

The crowd parted, and his father frowned at him. "Carson, lad, are ye okay?"

"Aye, I'll be fine." Carson knelt next to Calum. His brother blinked slowly, and Carson recognized signs of a minor concussion plus a nasty cut. He reached forward with his good arm, willfully ignoring the agonizing pain in his dislocated shoulder and broken finger with great difficulty.

The world shifted.

Carson blinked at the stack of files an inch from his nose and shook his head. He'd fallen asleep at his desk. Again. Straightening with a sigh, he rolled his stiff neck muscles as he rubbed the residual soreness from his shoulder. He rarely thought about that day thirty years ago. Just a week later, his father had died from a sudden myocardial infarction, and he'd been unable to help. It had shaped his desire to become a doctor, and the mishap with the swings was forgotten. Except in dreams.

Carson stood, feeling his back pop as he stretched. He should be in his quarters resting. As he left the infirmary, he stopped next to Colonel Sheppard's bed. The colonel still faced a long recovery from having been infected with the Iratus retrovirus, but he was stable. Deciding the night shift could keep watch, Carson walked to his quarters.

Once there, he moved to the desk and picked up the framed portrait. His father's cheeky grin and happy blue eyes made him smile. For the first time since he was five, he clearly heard his father's voice in his mind. _Carson, lad, are ye okay?_

"Aye," Carson said to the memory. "I'll be fine."

Feeling only a twinge of sadness, Carson prepared for bed and crawled under the covers. His father would be proud of the man he'd become. He was certain of it. At peace with his life, he drifted to sleep where memories still lived in his dreams.

**Author's Note II:** "Myocardial infarction" is a heart attack. I used the medical terminology because it strikes me as the way Carson would think. ;)


	8. I Didn't Have To Ask

**Author's Note:** This one-shot is in response to two challenges, one formal and one informal. The formal one is for the Carson Beckett Challenges and Fun thread on Atlantis. We were to write a shippy, whumpy story where Carson gets in trouble off world and his lady has to rescue him. The informal one comes from Grace, who wanted to see a story where a fangirl of Carson's arrived on Atlantis. Somewhat Mary-Sue-ish, but not. This story is the result. Contains spoilers for "Intruder," "Duet," "Critical Mass," "The Tower," and "Coup d'Etat," maybe a few others. :) Enjoy! ~lg

oOo

RaeAnn Morgan walked toward the infirmary with slow steps. A knot coiled in her stomach, and she swallowed to try to wet her throat. She'd been on a ship for three weeks, having traveled from the Milky Way to Atlantis for her new posting. Still, she could not believe her luck.

_He_ was there! RaeAnn swiped sweaty palms on her leg and forced herself into the infirmary. She had followed the work of Dr. Carson Beckett since he'd guest-lectured at her medical school. Over the years, that admiration had blossomed from professional intrigue to something a fangirl experienced over a favorite actor. She hated to think that she—experienced trauma specialist and newly-recruited doctor aboard Atlantis—had succumbed to the one thing that she always despised from her college buddies. Yet, here she was, barely able to keep her hands from shaking as she entered the domain of the one man whose work had fascinated her the most.

The infirmary resembled controlled chaos. Boxes of supplies were stacked everywhere while personnel swarmed the area. In the midst of it, doctors and nurses conducted exams of the new arrivals. RaeAnn took her place in line as she surveyed the area with wide eyes. Technology she'd never seen before—let alone used—appeared sporadically. She guessed the large arm that hovered over a bed was some sort of scanner and ironically mused that she could have used that back on Earth in the ER she'd run. Hand-held scanners appeared here and there, and the chatter was punctuated with quick reminders to lift "on three." It reminded RaeAnn that Atlantis's medical personnel had just been greatly boosted by the city's recent reconnection with Earth.

"Dr. Morgan?" A Scottish accent pulled her out of her thoughts. She turned and saw _him_ standing next to a recently vacated bed, tablet in hand. He wore a dark gray uniform shirt under a white lab coat. Bright blue eyes sparkled, and he offered her a friendly smile.

RaeAnn walked toward him, the butterflies resuming their dance in her stomach as she drew close to him. He was smaller than she'd anticipated or remembered, only a few inches taller than her own five-foot, seven-inch frame. But his eyes were brighter, and his smile revealed charming laugh lines and an adorable dimple. She swallowed, hoping she didn't appear too nervous, and stepped forward.

His smile warmed as she approached. "It's quite alright, love. I just need ta take a wee bit of blood for baseline comparison. Like everyone who arrived on the _Daedalus_, you're good to go otherwise."

RaeAnn nodded. "Right." She hopped up onto the bed and slipped off her uniform jacket. He set aside the tablet and snapped on sterile gloves.

"So," he said as he worked, "how are you findin' our fair city?"

"Um. . . ." She searched for an answer, trying to meet his eyes. Her gaze didn't get beyond the zipper at his throat. "I'm not sure yet."

"Aye, it's overwhelmin' at first." He offered another smile as he reached for her arm. "Small pinch." The needle slid painlessly into her arm.

As he worked, she allowed herself to stare a bit. His eyes focused on his work, and his hands moved confidently as he finished collecting the blood and reached for a cotton ball. By the time he glanced at her, she'd looked back to his shoulder, the floor, or anywhere else but his face. She couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes just yet.

He labeled the vials and reached for the tablet. "Well, I've glanced over your medical file, and everythin' looks to be in order. Any allergies I should know about that aren't in here?"

She shrugged. "No. Just seasonal allergies and almonds."

He made a note in her file, asked a few other questions, and sent her on her way. RaeAnn managed to meet his eyes long enough to give him a quick smile before bolting for the door. In the corridor, she stopped and let out a deep breath. She'd idolized Carson Beckett for years, dreamed about meeting him and working with him, and had frozen when given the opportunity to talk to him. She shook her head. "Wuss!"

oOo

Carson watched Dr. Morgan dart for the door with a sympathetic expression. The woman was pretty with intelligent brown eyes framed by purple-tinted glasses. But she'd been so shy that she couldn't meet his gaze. He understood that Atlantis could overwhelm a newcomer, but he seriously worried about her. He'd hired her for her qualifications as an emergency room doctor and trauma specialty. She'd run an ER near Cheyenne Mountain, and had done it well, for the last two years. That didn't fit with the shyness she'd exhibited just now.

With a sigh, he went back to his work. That shyness could create problems. If she hesitated because she was overwhelmed by Atlantis—or anything else—it could be deadly. The last thing he wanted was for her to return to Earth, heartbroken because she froze up when a patient needed her the most. He made a mental note to have Dr. Cole befriend her and went about his incredibly busy day.

oOo

Three weeks made an incredible difference in RaeAnn's comfort level. For her first two days, she was allowed to roam the city, read reports, and familiarize herself with life in Pegasus. And she had plenty of nurses and other doctors to fill her in on the details. One in particular, Amanda Cole, became her constant companion in the evenings, and the two women laughed as they shared life experiences. Amanda had worked for a short time in an ER back on Earth, and she loved some of RaeAnn's more humorous stories.

Dr. Beckett, however, still left her tongue-tied. She tried so hard to act normal in his presence, and those three weeks helped her to see him as a fellow human being rather than a hero. Not that he wasn't a hero. In the short time she'd been on Atlantis, she'd watched him go off world to treat the giant known as Ronon, and she'd heard stories about how one of the female Marines had taken over Dr. McKay's body and kissed him. For a short time, said Marine appeared in the infirmary, and the two of them often headed out for dinner, Dr. Beckett wearing a silly smile in the process. That, more than anything, tempered her admiration of him. While she still found him incredibly attractive, she wouldn't be caught dead admiring Dr. Beckett's. . .assets. . .with Laura Cadman in the general vicinity.

Carson also kept an eye on Dr. Morgan for those three weeks. She settled nicely, and he was relieved to see that her shyness didn't extend to her work. When anyone came into the infirmary, she professionally handled their needs and usually managed to make the injured person laugh or smile by the time she left. She even handled Ronon well, though the big Satedan didn't like anyone but Carson treating his wounds. When most women would have walked away from Ronon in tears or completely angry, Dr. Morgan simply shrugged and stitched whatever cut needed stitching. Ronon didn't like it, and, as a result, didn't like her. Neither did McKay, for that matter. He complained to Carson one day about Dr. Morgan's "rough personality and inappropriate humor." Carson settled the dispute by promising to have Dr. Biro treat Rodney the next time he needed it, and Rodney hadn't complained again.

If for no other reason, Colonel Sheppard liked her. Of course, Carson knew that Sheppard deliberately needled Rodney just to get a rise out of the physicist. All in all, Carson was happy with how the new recruits from Earth settled in to work on Atlantis and in his infirmary. As far as he was concerned, he couldn't have a better staff under his command.

oOo

A burst of feminine laughter turned heads in the mess hall late one night. RaeAnn covered her mouth with a napkin in an effort to not shower Amanda with tuttle root soup. Next to her, Marie also giggled as Amanda told them about one of her first experiences on Atlantis. It had been an unfortunate combination of mud, men, and mayhem. In the end, Amanda had walked away incensed and unable to see the humor in the entire thing until much later. And Major Lorne shuddered every time she mentioned a rainy or swampy planet.

But there was more. Amanda's gaze roamed the mess hall and settled on a table over RaeAnn's shoulder. The new doctor knew that her friend was already staring at the previously mentioned major. And she read the attraction and wistfulness in her gaze. "Have you thought about asking him out?"

Amanda blinked at her. "What?"

Marie picked up on RaeAnn's train of thought. "You should!"

Amanda shook her head and dropped her gaze to her mostly-empty plate. "No. He's got. . . .Just no."

"Why not?" RaeAnn wanted an answer, but she refused to press if Amanda closed the subject. In her opinion, it hadn't been closed.

Amanda thought for a moment. "He can't afford to be distracted." Then, she quickly turned the tables on the two women. "What about you two? Anyone you'd like to ask out?"

Immediately, RaeAnn's stomach clenched. What was she supposed to say to that?

Fortunately, Marie answered for her. "There is someone. . . ."

"Who?" Amanda demanded.

Marie grinned. "I'm not sayin'."

Amanda groaned. "That's not fair! You two figured out my crush. You gotta spill about yours!" She looked between the two and saw the way RaeAnn's face had turned red. "Dr. Morgan, do you have a secret to share?"

"No!" RaeAnn answered too quickly, and she knew it. She took a deep breath. "I mean, he's seeing someone else last I knew, and I really didn't come here for a relationship or, as my mom would call it, my M.R.S. Degree."

The two women laughed at that. Amanda nudged her arm. "Come on. Just tell us about him."

RaeAnn exchanged a glance with Marie and huffed. "Fine. We'll share."

Marie jabbed a finger into the air. "Only if you promise not to say anything."

Amanda held up her hands. "No names. Just tell me about him. . .them."

Marie looked at RaeAnn and nodded. "He's. . .um. . .hot. _Really_ hot. Military, and every time I see him come into the infirmary, my insides just melt."

Amanda frowned. "That could be just about any Marine on this base."

"I know!" Marie's cheeky response brought another round of chuckles. "Seriously, though, he's. . .he's not in any command position, and he's got this crazy sense of humor that will have a girl laughing herself silly in an instant.

_Coughlin!_ RaeAnn's mind immediately supplied the name. She'd observed Marie and Coughlin laughing together in the infirmary on several occasions and had always thought they'd make a great couple. She elbowed Marie. "You should ask him out. Whoever he is."

Marie folded her arms and stared at RaeAnn. "So, are you going to ask your guy?"

"Oh, goodness, no!" RaeAnn shook her head emphatically. "He's dating someone else."

Amanda raised an eyebrow. "You're falling for a taken man?"

"Yeah." RaeAnn let out a wistful sigh, staring at the wall as she pictured Carson's face. "He's a scientist here, not military. Amazing eyes, great smile, perfect squeezability. Just amazing from _any_ angle! Completely dedicated to his work, too."

"Well, we know it's not McKay!" Amanda grinned. "Or is it? I heard he's dating Katie Brown."

RaeAnn gave her a bland expression.

"O-kay, not McKay." Amanda shrugged. "You know, we should do something about this."

"What?"

"How's 'bout a solemn oath to ask out our men before the year is over?"

RaeAnn started calculating the odds of that happening. "No."

"You're that certain he'd turn you down?"

"He's dating someone already!" She gathered her tray. "Maybe if this relationship he's in doesn't work out, but I don't see how it won't. They're suited for each other. I'll just. . .get over it." She marched away with her head held high, though her stomach was clenched. She'd not told anyone that she was so besotted with Carson Beckett that she could barely think around him. Her admiration had changed in recent months, tempered by Pegasus and his relationship with Laura Cadman. But she still struggled to breathe every time he looked her way, and she usually worked to keep from dissolving into a happy puddle of goo when he smiled at her. And he did so, quite often. It was his style of leadership that he treated all of his doctors and nurses with respect, kindness, and a wry sense of humor. That delightful Scottish accent only made the situation worse.

Resolved to get over her lingering fangirl-ish emotions and to put this crush on Carson Beckett aside, RaeAnn retired to bed that evening and spent the night staring at the ceiling.

oOo

Another couple of months and a few adventures passed. Carson endured the changes in his personal life as well as his professional career. He finally felt confident in Atlantis, not with what they faced but with the technology. Watching Colonel Sheppard devolve into the bug-like creature was harder on him than anything he'd anticipated. The colonel had become a good friend, and having his hands tied like that stung. Of course, it was Carson's last-minute epiphany that led to everything turning out okay.

And, of course, there was the entire incident with the ZPM and Colonel Caldwell. Carson had watched Charin, a close friend of Teyla's, die of old age. Teyla had planned the woman's memorial in spite of the danger, and Carson stayed behind to support her, hoping everything would work out. And it had, even though he'd had several tense moments at the Ring Ceremony, where Teyla sang and her people bravely resisted the instinct to run for their lives. His admiration for the Athosians grew in that moment, and he knew he'd grown during that entire affair.

Unfortunately, his personal life seemed to fall apart right after that. He and Laura had dated for several months, but they weren't suited for one another. Just before the news that the ZPM would overload came, Carson had asked her to remain behind on Atlantis so that they could try to work out their differences. It didn't work. They were just too different. And, every time he kissed her, he thought of Rodney. As much as he teased McKay about the entire incident, it bugged him on a purely male level. He wasn't like that, and he wished he could put it aside and think of Laura as her own person. His inability to do so, as well as her natural adventuresome attitude, led to some tense discussions where they decided to go their separate ways. She left for Earth while he was off world, trapped in a tower by a wannabe Lord Protector.

Not allowing anyone to see much of the behind-the-scenes occurrences, he threw himself into his work in the infirmary. His medical staff provided friendship, as did Colonel Sheppard's team. It took a few weeks, but he settled into life as a bachelor once again, and he realized that his relationship with Laura became a small regret in the grand scheme of things.

Three weeks after Laura's departure—about five weeks after they finally decided that they couldn't work things out—Carson was called off world to assist with a flu-like illness on one of Atlantis's allied planets. Carson had been numerous times for clinics, and he declined Elizabeth's offer to have Colonel Sheppard's team accompany him. He did take a security team, Dr. Morgan and another nurse with him, and the two medical personnel performed admirably under less-than-desirable conditions. After three days, he sent them back to Atlantis for some well-deserved rest. He decided, against Elizabeth's wishes, to remain behind and ensure the flu wouldn't return.

Finally, he headed out for the gate with the last of his equipment. He carried several heavy cases, having already sent the rest of it with Colonel Sheppard, who had checked in regularly in the last week. He was exhausted, wishing he'd just headed back to Atlantis in the Jumper rather than remaining behind to say goodbye to an adorable child who had captured his heart. The path to the Stargate wound through some hillsides, and some of the drops were quite steep. He carefully navigated the path, rolling his neck and looking forward to a hot shower, shave, food, and bed.

"Well, hello, Doctor." The words caught him off-guard. Carson whirled, and a fist connected with his stomach before he could see who had accosted him. Another blow landed on his kidneys, telling him that he'd been attacked by more than one person.

He gasped in pain, struggling to straighten as the heavy cases were ripped from his grip. He blinked and saw a thin man with a long ponytail, his smirk belying the tattered uniform he wore. "You're Genii."

The man grinned. "Well, ain't you a bright one." He walked forward so that he was nose-to-nose with Carson. "We were gonna just raid the village. But seein' you here, alone, was too good to pass up. Hand over the medical kit, Dr. Beckett, and we'll let you return to Atlantis."

Carson straightened. So far, the Genii and the Wraith thought Atlantis was destroyed, and they needed them to continue thinking that. "Where?"

The man balled up his fist and punched Carson again in the stomach. "Don't play coy, Dr. Beckett. We know who you are and where you've been holed up. We know Atlantis survived. So be a good doctor and hand over the medical kit."

The shock of the attack wore off after those words, and Carson swung, his childhood ability to scrap with the best of them coming out as his fist connected with a nose. The man he'd punched howled, and he took another kidney punch for his efforts. Someone kicked his knee, and he shouted in pain as it gave way with a sickening crunch. He didn't think it was broken, but he knew he'd favor it for a while now. Still, he fought back. The pack on his back was yanked from him, jerking his muscles and shoulders painfully. He pushed himself back to his feet and threw himself at the attacker in front of him. For a brief moment, he had the man completely at his mercy, and he managed to land several powerful, adrenaline-laced punches before he was yanked away. A fist connected powerfully with his jaw, and other blows landed.

"Get rid of him!" The gruff order barely registered as a final blow sent him teetering backward. His arms pinwheeled painfully, and then he went over the edge of the steep hill. Rocks, branches, and ground pounded on his already-battered body, and he came to rest with a rock connecting squarely with his spine. Carson held on to consciousness long enough to see blurry forms climbing the hills and away from the attack site. He tried to roll over, but agony spiraled through him. _Broken __or __cracked __ribs, __possibly __wrenched __back, __spinal __damage, __kidney __damage._ His medical brain listed the possible injuries, and he dropped his head with a groan. Not only did he know it was inadvisable to move, but he wasn't sure he could.

Staring at the sky, he closed his eyes and allowed unconsciousness to take him.

oOo

RaeAnn managed to settle into life on Atlantis after several months. As she watched the city go through changes, she managed to get a hold on her emotions concerning Dr. Beckett. While she admired him, it was from a distance. Even after Laura Cadman returned to Earth, RaeAnn couldn't bring herself to "make a move," as Amanda called it. Of course, working in the infirmary gave her a unique perspective. She saw the hours Dr. Beckett devoted to his work, and, while she would have loved to be a part of his life, she didn't want to split his focus. Not so soon after his relationship with Laura ended.

That was never so prominent as when he called her into his office just after his return from the Lord Protector's planet. He sat behind his desk and informed her that he wanted her to form a specialized trauma team specifically for the purpose of traveling off world to render assistance in emergency situations. With her specialty, as well as her experience in emergency rooms, he felt she was the best person to head it up. Feeling very humbled by his request—and a tad breathless at the way he'd treated her as an equal and not someone under his command—RaeAnn left his office and started training personnel right away.

Then, of course, he invited her off world with him to treat a flu-like virus. She understood, given her specialty, that it might require her expertise. But those days, with hours devoted to creating a vaccine, she managed to get to know Dr. Beckett on a personal level, one where she could look him in the eye, talk to him, and laugh with him without feeling like her stomach was doing somersaults.

"Dr. Morgan." The call came through her headset just as she gained her quarters. It had been a long day, and she was ready to relax. She hadn't fully recovered from her trip off world and had worked a full day in the infirmary.

With a tired sigh, RaeAnn touched her earpiece. "Go ahead."

"Gather your team and report to the Jumper bay. Colonel Sheppard's team has requested assistance." The announcement sent adrenaline coursing through her veins. She snagged the jacket she'd just shed and virtually ran from her quarters, already calling for her team to prepare. They'd trained for this, doing speed drills to the point that none of them wanted to hear the word "stopwatch" again. Now, it came in handy. Within ten minutes, the entire team converged on the Jumper bay with medical kits, backboard, and various emergency medical equipment. Major Lorne sat in the Jumper's pilot seat and blinked at their efficient movements as they quickly stowed their gear in the rear compartment.

RaeAnn moved to the front of the Jumper, where the major and Dr. McKay waited. "What's the situation?"

McKay gave her a bland look. "It's Beckett. He took a fall, and we're afraid to move him."

RaeAnn blinked as the Jumper started lowering itself into the gateroom. "And the nature of his injuries?"

"Bad," McKay snapped.

Irritated at being dismissed, RaeAnn faced him. "Dr. McKay, I cannot prepare my team to treat Dr. Beckett's injuries if I do not have an idea of what I will be facing. By saying simply 'bad,' you could mean anything from a punctured lung, a heart attack, or a broken neck."

"What, do I look like a medical doctor?" McKay fired back. At a sharp glance from Major Lorne, McKay sighed. "Fine. It looks like he fell down the side of a mountain. Sheppard was afraid to move him because of how he's lying."

RaeAnn forced herself to breathe. A fall she could handle. She'd treated several hikers in the Colorado Springs area over the course of her career, and she mentally began preparing for cuts, bruises, broken bones, possible internal bleeding, and the like. As they passed through the wormhole, she informed her team of what they would face, and the two men and one woman nodded in response to her instructions.

They arrived a few short moments later to see Teyla waving from the side of a mountain. Major Lorne told RaeAnn that he'd hover the Jumper over the path for her team to hop down, and then he'd have to circle the area for a place to land. The terrain was rocky, and the path wrapped around the side of a mountain to open onto a level field. It wasn't far away, and she remembered thinking about picking some wildflowers that grew in the field when she passed through the area just a day ago. Hopping out of the Jumper, she collected her gear and headed for Teyla. "Where's my patient?"

Teyla pointed. "Down here." She glanced at RaeAnn. "Dr. Morgan, we believe he was attacked."

RaeAnn looked down the mountain. Dr. Beckett lay on his back, his arms and legs sprawled with his feet toward the path and his head downhill. Even from this angle and in the fading sunlight, she could see the bruises that marred his body. She also saw the loose soil and rocks that would make reaching him treacherous. Thankful that climbing gear seemed to come standard with a Jumper, she quickly managed to climb into a harness and have her team lower herself and Teyla to Dr. Beckett's side.

He was regaining consciousness as she arrived. Running a scanner over his body, she quickly determined that his knee had been damaged somehow, but the most life-threatening of his injuries seemed to be the rock in the middle of his spine as well as the traces of internal bleeding. One eye was swollen shut, and his lip had been split in several places. It looked like he'd had the crap beaten out of him. RaeAnn touched his shoulder as his good eye rolled in the socket. "Dr. Beckett, just remain calm. We're going to get you out of here."

"Carson. . . ." He blinked as he whispered his first name. His good eye found Teyla, and he smiled at her before giving RaeAnn a grateful look. "It's good ta see ye, lass."

RaeAnn returned the smile, her hands already working to collect the backboard that had been lowered to her. She could get him attached to it with Teyla's help, but it would be painful for him. Still, with the limited climbing gear, she preferred to do most of her triage on the Jumper rather than a precarious mountainside. Leaning over him, she checked his pupil dilation and noted that he likely had a concussion. When he cringed away from the light, she touched his shoulder again. "I'm sorry, Doctor."

"My name's 'Carson,' lass." He seemed reluctant to simply lie there, choosing to watch her work as she swiftly got the backboard in place.

RaeAnn glanced at him, her gaze colliding with his. Though it was for a fraction of a second, her hands stilled as she smiled. She pulled herself from the moment and glanced at Teyla. "Carson, from what I can tell, you have no spinal damage other than some bruises on your back. Teyla and I are going to move you onto the backboard and then get you to the Jumper for triage."

He nodded with a wince. "Good."

Taking his closed eyes as permission, RaeAnn instructed Teyla on what she needed to do. When ready, she counted to three and rolled Carson toward the Athosian. He groaned with pain, hissing and breathing heavily by the time she got him situated on the backboard. Slipping the C-spine immobilizer in place, she strapped him to the backboard and nodded to her people above them. They began to carefully pull him toward the top of the hill while she called for Major Lorne to return with the Jumper.

All in all, the team had Carson back on Atlantis within an hour. Most of the triage passed quickly, but that internal bleeding worried RaeAnn. She walked next to the stretcher that met them in the Jumper bay, reading out the results of her latest scan to Amanda Cole. Amanda nodded and, with a firm tone in her voice, declined to perform the surgery. RaeAnn understood. She'd been hesitant in the past when Carson asked her to join him for surgery, and she knew Amanda figured it stemmed from a bad experience on Earth. Now, she'd have to actually perform surgery on the man who had caused the hesitation.

Hours later, the internal bleeding had been resolved, and Carson had been moved to a bed in the infirmary. Colonel Sheppard and Ronon returned, saying that a rogue group of Genii had attacked the doctor for his supplies. RaeAnn finished filling out Carson's chart and shook her head. His injuries should have been worse than they were, and it seemed the Scottish doctor had his own brand of luck. Not quite ready to call it a night, she settled into a chair next to her patient and watched him sleep.

oOo

Carson woke to the sight of RaeAnn dozing in her chair. He knew the feeling, had experienced it before. But, tonight, something else struck him.

She was beautiful. Not a wild beauty like Laura or an exotic beauty like Teyla. Her dark hair had been released from the snug bun she always wore, and it flowed over her shoulder in soft waves. She'd set aside her glasses, and her heart-shaped face had relaxed as she slept. Not wanting to wake her but feeling the pain creep into the drug-induced haze, he turned his head. And promptly groaned.

RaeAnn woke with a start. She blinked sleep from her eyes and pushed to her feet. "Take it easy, Dr. Beckett." Reaching into the lab coat she still wore, she pulled out a syringe and added pain medication to the IV port in his arm.

Carson watched her check his monitors and then reach for a cup of ice. She spooned an ice chip into his mouth, smiling when he nodded ever so slightly. He hurt all over. Finally, his throat felt wet enough to speak. "How bad?"

She met his eyes, her own gaze steady for the first time since he'd known her. "Not horrible, but definitely worse than usual."

He chuckled softly. "That wasnae an answer, love."

She grinned ruefully. "I know." Setting aside her scanner, she stood next to his bed and leaned her hip against it. "You have a pretty severe concussion that should heal in the next several days. Your knee is badly sprained, and it'll take four to six months for that to heal up. You've got three cracked ribs and bruised kidneys, not to mention suffering a bit of internal bleeding. That was quite a beating you took, and it's going to take some time to bounce back from it. You're just lucky that rock that you landed on only bruised your back rather than causing spinal damage."

"Aye," he agreed. The pain medication she'd slipped him was working, and he drifted back to sleep after whispering, "Thank you."

When he next woke, it was Rodney at his bedside. The physicist called for a doctor, and Amanda came over to speak with him. RaeAnn had taken the day to get some sleep after having spent nearly twenty-four hours either patching Carson up or sitting at his bedside. Carson made a mental note to give Dr. Morgan a commendation for her care and began to revise his previous opinion of the shaky doctor. When in her element, there was nothing shaky about her. Even Rodney, who still didn't like her, admitted she'd done well.

He was released from the infirmary five days later, and RaeAnn cautioned him against returning to work for another week. Carson declined the offer to return to Earth through the wormhole and went crazy in his quarters. He took to wandering through the infirmary, drawing an adorable scowl from RaeAnn as he simply chatted with Amanda or Marie. He also stopped next to RaeAnn's station on more than one occasion, striking up a conversation unrelated to her work. As medical doctors, their talk often revolved around their work, and they spent an entire afternoon sitting at her workbench and sharing experiences from their pasts. Carson noticed RaeAnn watching him appreciatively at times, and her smile always lit her face when he approached. And suddenly, he realized what had happened.

She wasn't afraid of Atlantis or of being a doctor. When she'd arrived, she'd been unsteady and nervous around _him_. Her nerves came from the attraction she felt for him rather than any insecurity about her abilities. That realization made him aware of her in a way that he'd never been before.

His first day back to work, Major Lorne escorted Dr. Lindsay to M28-177. Carson was on hand to receive the burned bodies thought to be the major and his team. He watched Amanda bolt for the door, unable to watch, and took it upon himself to figure out what had happened. And, when he needed assistance, he called for RaeAnn. Time revealed the Genii plot, as well as the radiation sickness that Ladon's people suffered, and RaeAnn worked tirelessly beside him as they tried to help those who suffered. In the end, when it was revealed that Dahlia Radeem had a malignant tumor in her lung, Carson called for RaeAnn to assist him with the surgery. And, this time, she didn't hesitate, almost anticipating what he'd need during the entire process.

With Ladon Radeem on his way back to the gateroom with Elizabeth, Carson took a moment to look down into the operating theater and breathe a sigh of relief. He'd heard from Elizabeth that they'd recovered Colonel Sheppard, Major Lorne, and the other missing personnel. It looked like this entire situation would resolve itself in time, and he was grateful for that.

RaeAnn joined him on the observation deck. "Dr. Beckett?" Though they were on a first-name basis most of the time, she insisted on maintaining that level of professionalism so long as they were doing more than research.

He glanced over at her. "Och, just thinkin', love." He smiled as she joined him next to a bank of monitors that recorded everything happening below him. "Lovely work today."

She smiled, her face darkening just a touch. "Thank you." She met his eyes. "I was going to head to the mess hall for some coffee. Would you like me to bring you a cup?"

"Aye, that would be great." He let out a deep breath. Over these last weeks, he'd allowed his feelings for her to grow into something a lot deeper than professional admiration. She turned toward the door, having removed her wire-rimmed glasses to rub at her eyes. "RaeAnn?"

She turned, surprised that he'd used her given name. Slipping her glasses back on her face, she blinked at him. "Yes?"

Carson smiled, deciding that there was no time like the present to ask what he'd been considering asking for days now. "Later this evening, when everything calms down in the infirmary, would you care to join me for dinner?"

For a moment, RaeAnn stared at him. Carson had just asked her to dinner? The expression on his face wasn't one he gave to just anybody. She'd seen that expression when he and Laura Cadman had first started dating. Only, now, there was something deeper behind it. There was friendship that could easily turn to more. She smiled suddenly. "I'd really like that, Carson."

His own smile widened, and she left before she embarrassed herself. Once in the corridor, however, she leaned against the wall in the same place she had all those months ago and suppressed the squeal of glee that rose inside. She had a date with Carson Beckett!

Going to the mess hall for coffee just as she'd promised, she looked for Amanda and Marie. She didn't find the former, but the latter was stirring her own coffee. RaeAnn rushed to her side. "Guess what?"

Marie turned and grinned slyly. "From your expression, you've got a date."

"Yep." RaeAnn reached for two coffee cups, filled them, and added cream and sugar to one and two packets of sugar to the other.

Marie watched closely, seeing how she prepared it. "No way!"

RaeAnn glanced up. "What?"

Marie pointed. "There's only one man on this base who drinks more than one packet of sugar in his coffee, and that's Dr. Beckett. _That's_ who you're going on a date with?"

In spite of the blush that covered her face, RaeAnn grinned triumphantly. "And I didn't even have to ask!"


	9. Addiction

**Author's****Note:** This one-shot comes out of several things. First of all, I have to say thanks to **Libero** for sending me the audio drama "Perchance to Dream" by Paul McGillion. Listening to that today helped me write in a point-of-view that's not something I tend to write. This _is_ a tag to "Perchance to Dream." If you haven't heard the drama, I highly recommend it. And, if any of this confuses you, please let me know. I don't think there's much in the way of confusion, but you never know. Secondly, **theicemenace** mentioned a line in "The Hive" that has always intrigued me. When Rodney's detoxing from the Wraith enzyme, Carson says he has "an inkling." This isn't the first time I've played with this idea, but it's definitely the more detailed version. As always, I am not a medical doctor, nor do I have personal experience. I've used what I could pull from the internet and a bit of research. This contains spoilers for "Instinct," "Conversion," and everything from "The Hive" through "Misbegotten," as well as the natural spoilers for "Perchance to Dream." Enjoy! ~lg

oOo

I'm not even sure why I took the pills. My leg wasn't hurting as badly, the break having been expertly set by Dr. Cole. I had recovered from my ordeal with Dr. Gilbert, returned to my duties, did physical therapy, and moved on with my life. Or so everyone thought. None of them knew I still woke at night, sweating and paralyzed. Once the nausea tapered off a wee bit, I would get up and move about. Maybe stare out my window just to remind myself that I was alive. That I had not been lost while a Wraith queen, masquerading as the kind Dr. Gilbert, tried in vain to possess my body.

Those three days haunted me as I went about my business. The very idea that Dr. Gilbert existed as a part of me was constantly pushed to the back of my mind. I didn't think about her or the horror that she'd tried to impose on me. Until one day several months later.

I had been taking Lortab for my leg, and I still had a refill left. No one would think it odd that I simply asked for the prescribed dosage. But I knew better. My leg had not been paining me for some time, the break healing quickly. As I reached to throw away the empty medication bottle in the trash can, a voice whispered in the back of my mind, sounding an awful lot like Dr. Gilbert. _You __can __forget._

"Aye, but at what cost?" I asked myself. Even in that moment, I knew the dangerous slope I was on. I had been down it before. Still, instead of getting rid of the bottle, I set it on the edge of the bathroom sink and headed for the infirmary. It was time for my duty shift.

That wee orange bottle taunted me for a week, promising relief from the nightmares and memories. I often sat awake at night, staring at that cursed thing as the nightmares faded. I'm a doctor. I recognized the signs of Post-Traumatic Stress. I had done what everyone expected and spoken with Dr. Heightmeyer about it. She knew of the dreams, the memories, and everything except for the voice of my past calling to me. _You __can __forget._

In a fit of rage, I stomped into the bathroom and snatched up the bottle. To do what, I'm still not certain. It definitely wasn't my intention to give in. But, that night, as I glared at that bottle, I made a decision.

Marching to the infirmary with my hair in disarray, I startled Marie when I appeared. She half-stood from her spot at a work bench. "Oh, Dr. Beckett, I wasn't expecting to see you here."

I smiled at her. "I'm sorry to startle ye, love. My leg's just painin' me a wee bit, an' I'm here to fill my last script." The lie slipped easily off my tongue.

Marie nodded. "I'll make a note in your record."

"Thank you," I said gratefully. Taking the pills back to my quarters, I opened them with trembling hands and swallowed one. Then, I lay back on my bed and waited for the medication to take effect.

oOo

At first, the pills seemed like a God-send. I slept well that night and every night to follow. I told myself that I just needed to get over this latest batch of dreams, that I'd be okay as soon as the latest crisis over. The ZPM of Atlantis being sabotaged definitely gave a few of us nightmares, and I decided that I was still too stressed. My prescription contained thirty pills, and I was coming to the end of them. Then, Rodney was trapped in a submerged Jumper, creating enough stress for anyone who knew the cranky physicist. I hovered in the background, waiting until he'd been returned to Atlantis to treat his wounds. That night, I definitely needed that wee pill to help me relax.

After that, I wound up going off world to a society that served members of the Tower. That I was one of said nobles didn't bother me. I could have cared less who my patients were, so long as they survived. But the Lord Protector died anyway, and it stung. Especially the realization that I could do nothing for him. When we arrived home, I submitted to a complete physical. The pills didn't show up in my lab work because Dr. Cole knew I'd been given them for pain. Just to be safe, I faked a slight limp, telling her that being shoved into the cell by Otho had twisted my knee a bit wrong.

Then, Colonel Sheppard's team found the life pods in orbit over a planet. In fact, I was still quite drowsy from my dosage the night before when the first pod—containing Phebus—was brought to Atlantis. Perhaps that's why I was so easily duped.

That entire situation lasted through the night. I remember standing in the control room, listening to Colonel Caldwell argue with Rodney while wondering when I could slip away to my quarters. I needed that dose. While I only had three pills left, I knew I'd need them to get through the night. The injured Marines and Ronon's gut shot only highlighted what I didn't want to admit: I was dependent. Sneaking a few pills into my pocket, I stopped long enough to down a bottle of water and take one without Marie being any wiser. They had just begun to take effect as I scrubbed in to perform surgery on Ronon. After the power came back on, I made sure Ronon was going to be okay and collapsed into a chair in my office. The Lortab made me drowsy, but it was easily passed off as weariness from a night that never seemed to end.

Recovering from that night and the ensuing days left me without the pills. I had finished the prescription and could get no more without some sort of excuse. My own withdrawals gave me a reason, the phantom pain in my leg roaring into focus in the middle of the day. Dr. Cole insisted on a full physical, but she didn't catch the medication in my blood stream. Again, I'd just finished a legitimate bottle. It made sense for the chemicals to be in my system. Her concern for me was obvious, though she willingly gave me another prescription—a lower dosage. After all, I was the Chief of Medicine. I had never had a history of drug addiction that they knew about, and I had never given them a reason to doubt my word. With orders to take it easy for the rest of the day, I scurried back to my quarters and immediately took twice the prescribed dosage.

The relief those pills brought was incredible. I dropped onto my couch and simply stared out the window until I fell asleep. The next day, Major Lorne and his team were "killed" by the Genii, and I spent hours in the infirmary trying to identify the burned bodies of the people found in our men's places. Those days were difficult at best, and I kept my little orange bottle safely hidden in my pocket. As the hours passed and we were no closer to figuring out who had done such a thing, I slipped a pill here and there. I managed a soothing, gentle tone for Dr. Weir when she stood over the bodies, and I also showed that I was still capable of functioning in my capacity as CMO. I was okay, just experiencing pain on a regular basis.

I wonder now if the pills had anything to do with my desire to take my research on the retrovirus from lab tests to live tests. I'd not allowed Dr. Cole to treat me again, knowing she would grow suspicious. Instead, I found more creative ways of getting my pills. I stopped short of falsifying records, but I figured out how to get around anything that would endanger my position on Atlantis. You see, I knew I had a problem and that I needed to quit, but I was unable to control the urges. As a result, I withdrew from team dinners, claiming to be too tired in the evenings. I worked late in the lab, obsessively going over my research on what happened with Ellia and Colonel Sheppard. And I ordered a generic version of Lortab so that I could get the relief my body craved without using the valuable brand name on myself. It was cheap—relatively speaking—and could be easily covered. And it didn't compromise my position.

The day Elizabeth agreed to take my research to a live subject, I realized that my goal of staying trusted had been realized. Colonel Sheppard and his team returned with a live Wraith that I coldly strapped to a bed. In the past, I might have been a wee bit squeamish about injecting a living being with an experimental treatment, but I was too drugged and too angry to care. One of these creatures had trapped me in an alternate plane of existence, tried to possess my body, and had resulted in the torture of an entire galaxy. I could not feel sympathy for Michael, even though I managed to portray it at the right times. Once the conversion was complete, I took some time to myself. Obviously, it wasn't enough because Teyla realized something was wrong. _You __need __to __rest_. Even now, her words and concerned tone echoe in my head. And, because I took the medication my body craved, I slept through Michael's excursion into the infirmary where he stole the video documentation on his conversion. I awoke some time later, horrified that my secret might have been discovered.

And it was. Oh, not right away, of course. But that incident precipitated the eventual admission made in a moment of sheer emotionalism. I'd always hated my propensity for crying, and I managed to control it when Elizabeth assured me that the dead Marine that Michael killed wasn't my fault. But I knew better. And, when Michael kidnapped Teyla, I worried that I'd caused the death of a good friend. Once Teyla had been recovered and we'd returned to Atlantis, I knew I couldn't hold on to my secret any longer. Atlantis might not be safe from the Wraith, and they'd need their Chief of Medicine in the coming fight. Even though I'd hidden this addiction for months, I was still a doctor. I could not risk the lives of those around me simply for a tiny, little pill.

And, so, I told someone. It was the hardest thing I'd ever done, and I sat in Dr. Heightmeyer's office knowing that she could help me. But, when the time came, I couldn't say the words. I admitted to having nightmares, made up some story about still dealing with dreams of my encounter with that Wraith ghost, and then left her office. I wandered for a bit before I found myself in front of Colonel Sheppard's quarters.

He answered the door with _War __and __Peace_ in his hands. "Hey, Doc."

"Colonel." I swallowed the nausea in the back of my throat. "Do you have a minute?"

"Sure." Sheppard stepped back and let me into his quarters. As the door closed behind me, he reached for a bookmark. "What's on your mind?" he asked as he motioned me into a chair.

Now, most people assumed that Colonel Sheppard was a typical flyboy, but his quarters showed obsessive neatness and odd touches of class. He had a skateboard propped in one corner, a guitar on a stand, and a Johnny Cash poster on the wall. But his belongings were of quality, and he seemed perfectly at home with the dichotomy. The relative peace of the place didn't help as I perched on the edge of the chair he indicated. Wiping my sweaty palms on the legs of my pants, I let out a deep breath. "I'm. . . ."

He waited. When I said nothing else, he stood up and motioned to a mini-fridge. "Would you like something to drink, Carson?"

"Aye," I said gratefully.

"Beer?" He held out a cold can.

I blinked. "No, I can't."

Sheppard shrugged and handed me a bottle of water. I cracked the seal and took a long swallow, wondering why I was here. I ironically thought this would have been easier to tell Teyla or Ronon, who would understand my needs. But I'd chosen to go to the military leader of the entire base. _Well, __there's __nothin' __for __it,_ I thought. Staring into Sheppard's face, I couldn't stop the tears that welled up in my eyes. They didn't fall—thankfully—but I did nothing to hide them. "I need help."

Concerned, Sheppard dropped into his chair. "What is it, Doc?" The intense worry in his voice only made the shame even stronger. When I didn't say anything, he leaned forward. "Listen, Carson, if you don't tell me what's going on, I can't help you."

"I know." I sucked in great breaths of air, surprised at how panicked I felt. If I did this, I wouldn't be able to pretend anymore. Suddenly, pretending seemed like a good idea. But my morals—those wonderfully horrible things my mum had instilled in me—refused to let me be discovered like last time. Looking down at the water bottle in my hands, I crinkled the wrapper before my anger at myself got the better of me. I should have been stronger. If I wasn't so weak, I wouldn't have needed the pills in the first place. That anger and irritation at myself now did what I wasn't able to do before. I reached into my pocket and pulled out that dreaded yet loved orange bottle and tossed it to Sheppard.

He caught it by pure reflex alone. Not taking his eyes off of my face, he turned the bottle over and over in his hand. I saw when the realization dawned, and I lowered my head. My face burned, and I suddenly regretted guzzling the water he'd given me.

"Doc?" The low surprise in his voice made me peek at his face. He held up the bottle. "What's this?"

Now that he had the power over that precious medicine bottle, I could deny it no longer. I swallowed the lump in my throat and whispered, "My demons."

oOo

Admitting to addiction is one thing. Actually going through the detox process is another. There are methods of detoxing from opioid dependency that allow a person to sleep through the worst of it. I could have done a rapid detox method, where I was sedated and slept through the worst of the withdrawal. It would have been easy—too easy. I knew that opioids created a psychological dependency in me, and I wanted to remember every ounce of suffering I went through so that it would help me resist the temptation next time. And I knew there would be a next time when it came to temptation.

Rodney was angry that I hadn't come to him first. "We're supposed to be best friends!" he said as he found me in my quarters.

"Aye," I replied, not at all sure of what I was really doing. "An' that's exactly why I dinnae come to ye."

He frowned at me for a moment, and then I saw the light go off in his head. "Oh my God! When I was detoxing from the Wraith enzyme, you said you had 'an inkling.' This is what you were talking about!"

"Aye," I said again. "But I wasnae usin' then. Just. . .had in the past."

I watched while he cycled through the thoughts. Rodney might not have been the most sensitive person on the base, but he'd learned loyalty to his friends. And, amazingly, I was one of those friends. Finally, his face screwed up in a determined mask. "We're gonna get you through this, Carson." He stepped forward and put a hand on my shoulder. "I'll be right there with you, the whole way. Just like you were for me. You're. . .You are going to be okay, right?"

I couldn't stop the smile at the uncertainty in his question. "I'll be fine," I assured him.

"So, what are we doing?" He motioned with his hand. "I mean, _how_ are we doing this? Surely there are easier ways to go through detox than what I did."

"Aye, there are." I shrugged. "But I'm not."

"Why not?" he asked as if it were the most obvious question he could ask. "I mean, you're going to be in all this pain, right? Why not take the edge off?"

"Because, Rodney, I want to remember." And it was true. This was the second time in my life that I'd go through this ordeal, and I wanted the memories as vivid as possible. Although I would deal with nightmares and such, I wanted to prove I was strong enough to get through anything. I knew my friends didn't see me as weak, but I thought of myself as weak.

Colonel Sheppard arranged everything. After my little confession, he sent me back to my quarters to pack for ten days on the mainland. I quickly filled a small bag with a few changes of clothes, knowing I'd be wearing scrubs for most of the time. Detox wasn't a pretty process, and I saw no need to take unnecessary items.

To this day, I still don't know what Colonel Sheppard told Elizabeth to get her permission for her Chief of Medicine and frontline team to spend ten days on the mainland. For all I know, he may have told her the truth. Elizabeth is the soul of discretion, and she wouldnae want me to be more ashamed or embarrassed than I already was. After that, it was just a matter of me choosin' a doctor to oversee the process. Ironically, the only one I trusted was Amanda Cole.

Sheppard flew Rodney, Ronon, Teyla, and myself to the mainland first. I'd already gone overnight without the pills, and I could feel the pain setting in. Still, I kicked my three guardians out of the prefabricated building we'd chosen to use as a makeshift infirmary and changed into scrubs while Sheppard headed back to Atlantis. I later found out that he invited Dr. Cole to join him on the mainland. The poor lass agreed because she and the colonel had an unspoken attraction to one another. I know she wasn't happy to find out that he had lied to her, but she set that aside for a time. I was sitting on the hospital bed, in white scrubs and bare feet, when she walked in.

"Amanda, I am so sorry," I said immediately. Looking her directly in the eye, I made certain she knew how sincere I was. "I lied to ye, an' I'm. . . .I'm very, very sorry."

She put a hand on my knee in a comforting manner. "It's alright, Carson. I understand."

And she did. I couldn't understand why she believed me, but I appreciated it just the same. Lying back on the bed, I meekly submitted to her ministrations, allowing her to insert an IV for fluids. "No medications," I said as I lay there. "Only what you have to give to get me through this."

"Carson."

"I'm serious." I met her eyes. "I know this could be deadly, and I'll allow medications to prevent that. But don't try an incremental withdrawal. I've done that once already, and I didn't stay away."

She nodded and put a hand on my shoulder.

Within hours, the symptoms of withdrawal worsened. I could not believe how reliant my body had become on the Lortab always being in my system. I tried to sleep, to get some rest. But the memories of that euphoric sleep kept coming to the fore, tempting me to get up and ask for something. At first, I was able to refuse, but it was a good thing Colonel Sheppard insisted I not be left alone. When the withdrawal became worse, it was Sheppard who restrained me and managed to talk me out of backing out. Once I was tied to that bed, I lost all sense of time.

There are bright spots in my memory of those days. It took nearly seventy-two hours for the Lortab to break down in my system. I clearly remember the agonizing pain, the anxiety, photophobia, phonophobia, sweating, and a host of other symptoms. The tremors increased to actual convulsions, making me glad that I'd been restrained to the bed.

Amid that chaos, there are moments that will stay in my memory forever. Amanda rarely left my side except when Colonel Sheppard urged her to get some sleep. She was forever bathing my sweaty face with cool water and speaking softly to me. I'm sorry to say that I yelled at her more than once for shouting at me when she'd barely whispered. To her credit, she never became angry and merely administered benzodiazepine when I needed it.

Teyla came often, though she spent as much time among her people. I didn't feel abandoned by her but rather looked forward to her visits. She arrived late at night, when the physical exhaustion left me unable to sleep but craving rest of any kind. In her gentle way, she would bathe my face and sing softly. I remembered her song from Charin's Ring Ceremony, and I turned my face gratefully toward her every time I heard her voice. It was instinctive, really. And I will always appreciate everything she did.

But it was Rodney who did the most good for me, though I was angry with him at the time. About midway through the entire ordeal, he came to the building where I suffered and relieved Ronon. The big Satedan had sat at my side, telling me I was strong enough to get through this. Rodney took his place, nervously asking how I was doing before launching into an overly-technical explanation of his latest experiment. I knew even then that he really didn't know what to say to me, and I had been none too kind to him when he'd last appeared. Quite frankly, I wasn't too kind to any of them. Though this was my choice, I held them responsible for my suffering.

That day was the worst. I pulled against my restraints, angry at myself and the world for putting me in this situation. Rodney had been ignoring my rant, waving me off with his characteristic "Yeah, yeah, yeah" attitude. It angered me. "Don't just bloody ignore me, Rodney!"

He blinked at me. "I'm not ignoring you, Carson," he said softly. "I'm doing exactly what you wanted me to do."

"And what is that?"

"Getting you through this." He set aside his computer to come stand at my bedside. "Look, I know you don't get it right now, but this is for your own good."

"Don't tell me what's for my own good!" I glared. "I'm a bloody doctor! I know what's for my own good!"

"Yeah, and that's why you've decided to go through this."

"Well, I'm done!" I looked around. "Where's Dr. Cole?"

"She's resting."

"Then get her in here!"

"No."

"What?"

"You heard me." Rodney folded his arms. "I'm not getting in trouble with Sheppard just for waking her up."

I looked around the room, frantic. I couldn't take it anymore! The nightmares had become waking dreams, and I couldn't get away from them. The nausea made it all worse, and there were several times I couldn't hold down the bile. Someone was thankfully there to hold a basin under my chin, but the chill from my sweat-soaked clothing made me shake even more. I tugged on the restraints again, squirming in my skin as my body cramped. "Please!" I whispered. "Just a nip. One dose. It's all I'm askin'! I swear that's all I want! Just enough. . ."

"To take the edge off?" Rodney asked gently. He reached for the wet rag again and wiped the sweat and tears away from my face. "I can't do that, Carson."

"Why not?" I demanded. "I'm a doctor! I'll walk you through the process!"

"Because you wouldn't do it for me." His simple answer made me angry, and I dissolved into a childish tantrum right then, yelling at him so loudly that Amanda came running. She demanded to know what was happening, and I turned my ire on her. At that point, she found a prepared syringe and injected it into my IV. The sedative took effect almost immediately, and I don't remember much after that.

Then, it was over. I know it seems simple to say it that way, but you have to understand that I suffered in silent agony. My body continued to break down the hydrocodone, but I was kept sedated through most of it. Ronon later told me I accused him of trying to kill me, but I don't recall much of it. The big man was sitting with me when I woke, coherent and exhausted. My muscles ached from the tremors, and I knew my body had a long ways to go before I could truly say I'd recovered from the ordeal. But the worst of it had passed.

Amanda came into the room and smiled at me, her eyes shadowed by exhaustion. "Good to see you awake, Carson."

"Aye," I said softly. "I'm so sorry, love."

She put a hand on my shoulder. "Like I told you before, I understand."

"You do?"

"Yes." She shook her head. "Alcohol, drugs, medications. . .they're all an easy escape for what we go through in life. And it's easy to take that escape route when we feel we don't have another one."

I could tell from her voice that she'd endured something before coming to Atlantis that had sent her over the edge. In the way of a fellow addict, I nodded but didn't ask any further questions. There would be time enough for that later.

She did a few more checks and then smiled at me. "Well, as long as you're up to it, I'll get Dr. McKay or Colonel Sheppard in here to help you change into some clean clothes. How does that sound?"

I lay back on the bed with a smile. "It sounds fantastic." Exhaustion swept over me. "But tell whomever it is to hurry, love, or I won't be awake."

She chuckled at that and slipped out the door. Sheppard appeared a moment later, carrying a fresh set of scrubs. "How 'bout we get this over with, Doc?" he said uncomfortably.

"Aye," I agreed. As he undid my restraints, I met his eyes. "Thank you, John."

He shrugged. "What are friends for?"

oOo

It's been a month since that awful trip to the mainland. After the first seventy-two hours, I was allowed to get up and move around. Once I proved that I wasn't going to go insane and harm anyone, any and all medications disappeared. Dr. Cole confiscated my key to the dispensary on Atlantis, and I gratefully allowed her to handle all prescriptions. If anyone asked, we cited a recent restructuring of power in the infirmary. I had a lot of paperwork to get caught up on, and she was more than happy to keep the truth from unsuspecting crew members. I appreciated her discretion and hated putting her in that situation. But it was for the better.

I endured several tense moments when my mind turned back to the easy escape, as Amanda called it. While trapped in an Ancient ship inside of a soon-to-be-erupting super volcano, Rodney stopped his work long enough to glance at me. "You okay, Carson? 'Cause you're, you know, fidgeting."

And indeed I was. The psychological effects of opioid addiction were tougher to break. After my trip to the mainland, I'd gone to Dr. Heightmeyer and confessed. It wasn't easy, but I knew I needed the help. Having someone else know about how stress made me want to take a pill kept me honest. Rodney asking was just another safety net.

Then, the Wraith came to Atlantis. All through the time I worked with their scientists, I kept thinking about how much calmer I would have been if I'd had the opportunity. But I had friends who looked after me. When I was placed in the blasted control chair against my will, Elizabeth's "How are you doing?" had more meaning than anything. She must have known what I'd gone through and was ensuring my continued freedom in spite of the stress. Hearing Colonel Sheppard's voice brought a relief more intense than any pill could have produced. And, later, when Michael probed my memory, I knew I could get through it because I'd been strong enough to get through the detox process. My treatment for the severe headache was handled with paracetamol and rest. That time, I refused to take any medications even though Amanda assured me it was okay.

Now, I'm in the infirmary writing this down so that, hopefully, someone will understand that they're not alone. I clearly remember feeling so drawn and worn down after my ordeal with the Wraith queen, and not one of my friends seemed to understand. But they did. Even now, Colonel Sheppard is in the infirmary, gently irritating Dr. Cole as he follows her around. He looks like a lost puppy dog, if the truth were told.

Oh, wait. He's askin' her out! "C'mon, Amanda!" he said barely a moment ago. "Just a trip to the mainland. Nothing more."

She just turned around. "And who are we detoxing this time?"

I cannae help myself. The snicker escaped before I could suppress it. Now, the two of them are lookin' at me as if I've grown a second head. I stand to my feet and walk over to her. "Say yes, love. Otherwise, he'll be in here at all hours of the night until you do."

She grins. "Thanks, Carson."

"You're welcome." I watch them leave with a smile on my face. Now I know what Sheppard promised her to get her to the mainland.

And I'm truly grateful for all he did.

oOo

**Author's Note II:** Opioid dependency is, unfortunately, common in the United States. Many prescription pain killers contain hydrocodone and are addictive if taken too long. People who suffer from opioid dependency find that the psychological need for the drugs lasts far longer than the physical need for the medications. This is why a good support system is necessary. When I wrote this story, I had no intention of making any kind of statement other than tell a good story, but a message came through anyway. I can't help but feel that Someone wanted me to write this in such a personal fashion, and I pray that this story-and its moral-stays with you. God bless! ~lg


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